Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce sat in the windowless transport, sick to his stomach from a combination of dread and the lingering effects of being freshly decanted from six years of cryo-sleep. His body felt like underset gelatin, poured into a mold and unable to hold its form. He took several deep breaths as they breached the atmosphere of Pandora, thankful that the medication had finally started to work.

Pandora — the place every scientist would kill to see, Jayce included. The jewel of the Alpha Centauri System, 2.5 trillion light years away from Earth, was the farthest semi-habitable place you could get. That was exactly where Jayce wanted to be.

He felt more relieved than excited as he sat in the small ship that would take him to his new home: an old military base repurposed by the Pandoran Conservation Initiative. The days of capitalist conglomerates like the RDA were long past, and the focus was finally on research and study of the fantastically biodiverse world around them, rather than stripping it for parts. The PCI was heavy-handed in choosing their researchers, and Jayce was one of the lucky few to be granted passage.

Jayce was lucky, but he didn’t feel lucky. He had no idea what was waiting for him down on the surface. He gripped his wrist and put a stop to the thoughts before they could begin; they would do no good here.

As the transport made contact with solid ground, he busied himself with his rebreather mask and overly-large duffle, which he slung over his broad shoulders with little difficulty. He waited in neat little lines with the other passengers, barely processing the instructions from the crew.

Bang! The transport door opened, natural light flooding the chamber. Jayce squinted against the glare and saw the giant base looming above him, filling his entire line of sight. What little else he could see was taken up by gray sky featuring Polyphemus, the gas giant that Pandora orbited.

He took a deep breath through his mask and walked down into an alien world. Goodbye Earth, hello Pandora, he thought to himself.

In front of Jayce, a small line of guards stood to the side of the gangway. When his feet finally touched solid ground, one of the guards broke rank and moved towards him. She was a tall, slim figure with dark hair, tied into a neat ponytail underneath her cap. She waved with one hand, holding a rifle in the other.

Jayce’s breath stuttered when he recognized her. “Cait!”

“Jayce!” Caitlyn pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s been too damn long.”

“I can’t believe — you’re so tall now.” He leaned back to take her in. “How long has it been?”

“Fifty years, by the looks of you,” Caitlyn teased. She reached up to ruffle his hair — smirking when he batted her hand away. “Mum would not stop talking about you.”

She pitched her voice higher. “Oh, Caitlyn dear, it is our duty to show our Jayce the famous Kiraman hospitality!”

“Is she still mad about your little getaway?” It hit him, then, just how much he had missed Caitlyn. When she had left Earth, he had thought they would never see each other again.

Years ago, in ongoing rebellion against her mother, she had confessed to Jayce her plans to leave for Pandora. By the time her mother had learned the truth, she was furious beyond belief, but there was nothing to be done. Caitlyn was already gone.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “She got over it, sort of. She gave up on grooming me into her perfect successor after I got a few trillion miles away, but she made me, ugh, head of security here as some sort of revenge.”

Jayce laughed and shook his head. “I’ll be honest, Cait — it suits you. How many times did you make me call you Detective Caitlyn as a kid?”

She scoffed, but looked pleased. Really, she looked far happier than anytime he could remember on Earth. Something about her had changed. The steel was still there, but it was moulded. Softened.

Around them, people proceeded towards the base, but one guard remained standing — hard to miss with her shockingly pink hair. She regarded Jayce with a careful eye as the two approached.

Caitlyn cleared her throat. “Jayce, this is Vi. Vi, Jayce.”

Vi broke into a smile and reached out to shake his hand. “I’m the wife.” Ah. There it was — but first — oof, firm grip. What were they feeding people here?

Caitlyn squawked. “Vi, that was my surprise!”

“Whaaat? New sister-in-law? Why didn’t I hear about this? Come here.” He dropped his duffle and pulled Vi into a hug, “When did this happen?”

Caitlyn sighed, “About a year ago. Sorry, I would have told you, but you were a little unavailable.”

“I guess six years of cryo-sleep counts as unavailable. Sorry I missed it.”

“Hey, you’re here now.” Vi patted his back. “And you’ve already helped us out a lot.”

“With what?”

“Oh, right.” Caitlyn shared a smile with Vi, “You don’t know — you’re gonna love this! Hope I’m explaining it right — someone figured out how to substitute Pandoran materials into your bio-battery. You’re powering almost half the base. It’s been so nice! We barely have to ration electricity anymore.”

“Oh — oh, wow. That’s great to hear. I’d almost forgotten about that old thing,” Jayce smiled. Was it possible for his heart to rise and sink at the same time?

Vi picked up Jayce’s duffle and gestured them over to a side door. She opened it with her access key. “Are you joking? The guy who figured it out called it the ‘discovery of the century.’ I’m from here, so everything about giant cities of light sounds insane — but last week, we put up string lights in our room.”

“Wait, you're Pandoran? That’s amazing!” The nausea was gone. “What’s it like sharing a planet with another sapient species? How do you view Earth’s culture — fuck, I need to write this down.” Jayce patted his pockets for his communicator.

“Okay, okay, we have plenty of time for that later,” Caityn interjected before Jayce could really get going, “First thing’s first. We need to get you settled in, or Dr. Singed will never let me hear the end of it. Are you okay for the grand tour, or — do you want to rest?”

Jayce considered his options. On one hand, he felt like he could sleep for another year. On the other hand, the idea of being unconscious again so soon, while life went on around him, sat heavily in his chest.

“I’ve slept enough. Let me drop this off,” He motioned to his duffle bag. “Then we can get started.”

The repurposed military base resembled a small town. The steel-gray walls were decorated with art (sometimes graffiti), advertisements, and signs in every language — including Na’vi. Storage rooms were now stores, entire conference rooms were repurposed for social gatherings. The mess halls were the only thing Jayce could see that were left intact. More people than he expected were going about on their daily business.

Caitlyn and Vi pointed out the better shops and introduced him to some of the residents. They showed him the best bar on the base, The Last Drop (“We’re usually here after day shift and help out on our days off.”) and introduced him to the owner (“Vander, my dad.”), and Silco (“My other dad. Don’t uh, don’t ask him what he does around here.” — “Why Violet, don’t scare the poor boy. I’m just supply chain.”). There was a real, honest to god, piano in the corner. Who would ship a piano all the way to Pandora?

After The Last Drop came the security bunker, the office of head operations, and finally:

“The main lab, where I’m guessing you'll be spending most of your time.” Caitlyn led Jayce through glass doors and into an expansive room, filled to the brim with scientists in lab coats unpacking crates, consulting multiple screens at once, or managing a menagerie of chemicals and test tubes.

“Ekko said he wanted to greet you in person and cover the finer details, so I’ll be leaving you with him.”

“The Ekko — here?” Jayce laughed nervously and swept a hand through his hair. “Wow. No pressure.”

Ekko, real name unknown, was a Pandoran legend. Jayce had watched at least four documentaries on the guy. Ekko had almost single-handedly improved the relationship between humans and the local Na’vi tribes — thought impossible since the days of Toruk Makto. Like Toruk Makto, as an Avatar, he had earned their respect by learning their way of life and completing their warrior rite of passage in record time (for a human).

Jayce vaguely remembered that one of the Na’vi present during the trial had described it with a gesture, most accurately translated colloquially as, “He fucking flew, bro.”

He needed to avoid getting starstruck. No pressure.

Caitlyn shared an amused look with Vi, who patted Jayce on the back, “Don’t worry, Ekko’s just a regular guy — who wrestled a viperwolf with his bare hands.” She laughed when Jayce paled.

Caitlyn gave him one last hug, “And you’re not so little yourself, Battery Man. People were excited to know you were on the way here.” She turned to leave. “Message me if you can't find your way back to your room —”

“And watch out for my little sis,” Vi finished.

“Who?”

She grinned and declined to elaborate — just gave him a parting thumbs-up and left with her wife.

That left Jayce standing alone in the lab. He caught the attention of a passing assistant, who directed him to the center of the room.

Ekko was easy to find once you knew where to look, with the markings on his face and his white shock of hair. His distinctive style would have contrasted oddly with the labcoat he was wearing, if it wasn’t covered in blue and pink scribbles — the same as some of the graffiti around the base. It looked like someone had decided to go avant-garde on it with crayons.

After they had exchanged introductions (“Please, call me Jayce.”), Ekko smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to have you on the team,” he said, “Huge fan of your work. Sorry I couldn’t come out when you landed — as you can see,” he smiled and gestured to the flurry of activity around him, “We’re a little excited. Some of the supplies we’ve been waiting for arrived with you.”

“You’ve been waiting six years for supplies?”

“That’s the problem with near light-speed travel and trillions of miles to cover — everything takes years to get here. We already worked out all the theoretical stuff, but now we can actually test it.”

“You will find that my calculations, as always, are correct.” A cool mechanical voice, slightly accented, spoke up.

Next to them stood a bronze automaton with a design Jayce had never seen before. It continued to type rapidly with surprisingly flexible fingers, and did not look away from the screen in front of it.

“True,” Ekko agreed as he looked down to consult the tablet he was holding, “But you know me, Viktor. I’m more of a practical guy to your theoretical one.”

The robot produced a low tinny sound that sounded like something between a hum and a grunt. Jayce stared at it — human-like mannerisms? Self reflective response to ongoing conditions? Astounding work.

Ekko looked up. “Okay — I wanted to do this in person, but Viktor won’t be here until we do your First Link with your Avatars.”

He threw an unreadable look at the automaton, and continued: “Jayce, this is Dr. Viktor Sokolov, Senior Research Scientist. Right now he’s actually offsite in his lab, but as you can see, he remotes in on Blitzcrank to work with us here. We’re having you conduct your individual studies together in the field because you share your area of research.”

Oh. Not a robot — a human. “You mean the neural network?”

“Yes. It’s safer, and some of the Na’vi are less likely to mess with you if you work in pairs.”

That worried Jayce. “Is there any danger from the Na’vi?”

“Not from the Na’vi, no. But some of my friends from the Omatikaya tribe like to, uh —” Ekko scratched the back of his neck. “Play tricks. For fun.”

Viktor scoffed. Inside a metal body, it sounded like a hollow rush of air. He continued to type as he replied, “Your blue friends are a nuisance. Every time they stick one of my creations in some tree, nest, or muggy swamp, Powder has to go fish it out.”

“I’ve already talked to them. They were just as curious as everyone else here about what you two work on.” Ekko sighed. “You'll be a lot less interesting walking around as an Avatar, but you could also stand to be nicer to the Na’vi. We’ve got our own thing going on, but we’re still their guests.”

“I like the Na’vi just fine. But your friends? I do not.” If an automaton could look dismissive, Viktor was pulling it off splendidly.

Ekko opened his mouth to reply, but paused when the watch on his wrist beeped. “I gotta go. The Tsahik wanted to meet about the samples we took from their tree.”

Viktor spared one metal arm to wave him off, “Go. Save the world.”

“The Na’vi save themselves,” Ekko corrected firmly, “But at least they know when to ask for help.”

He turned to Jayce. “I’ll leave you with Sky. She’s — Sky!” He waved across the lab at a woman with glasses engaged in conversation. She looked up and waved back. “She’ll be your main point of contact starting tomorrow. Get some rest first. You look like you could fall over.”

He patted Jayce on the shoulder, then looked toward the ceiling.

“Powder!” Ekko called, “I’m going.”

Silence. Then, from a vent above them, Jayce heard three quiet knocks. Was that a person... in the vents? He looked around. None of the other scientists around them had reacted or seemed surprised. This was normal.

There was too much going on here. He had no energy to deal with this. He was still fresh from the ship, for crying out loud.

Jayce watched as Ekko walked across the lab, shedding his well-decorated coat (he was so cool), before entering a room with an unlit sign above the door, bearing the words “LINK IN PROGRESS.” The door slid closed, and the sign lit up red — link in progress.

Jayce sighed. There was a lot to catch up on. He thought that he had a good idea of what to expect before leaving Earth. But here, he felt completely out of his element. Science was science everywhere — but Avatars, an entirely alien planet? Jayce knew that he was adaptable and a quick learner. Just how adaptable remained to be seen.

First things first: establish a good working relationship with your peers. He turned to Viktor, still shiny and bronze, still working.

“Dr. Sokolov, I’m a big fan of your work, but I’m a few years behind. Looking forward to working with you. Can I pick your brain about your memory recall theory later?”

Viktor didn’t respond. Had he not heard him? He watched as Viktor accepted a rack of samples from a passing scientist. No, he definitely had.

Jayce felt awkward as the silence between them grew. Maybe he should say something else, or just leave?

Finally, the mechanical head turned toward Jayce. “Likewise.” It gave one short nod, up-and-down, then turned back to the screen.

...Good work, Jayce. His cue to leave.

“He’s, He’s —” Jayce gestured with his drink. His flagon of house-made beer spilled over the rim. “— Fine! You know what? He’s kind of an asshole!”

Vi, matching him drink for drink, spit out a mouthful of beer. Half of it landed on the table, and half of it landed on her. She threw her head back and laughed. “Finally! You — you finally said it!”

Caitlyn wasn’t doing so well herself. She had clapped her hand over her mouth, but her shaking shoulders gave her away.

Vi wiped tears from her eyes, “Every day this week, you’ve been all ‘Oh, training’s great, Viktor’s been so helpful. I’m learning so much from him! But hah! I got you — I fucking got you!”

Jayce huffed. “How would you even know — it was a private lab — and don’t make me talk bad about my colleagues!”

Wiping up the beer Vi had spilled on herself, Caitlyn smirked. “Vi’s sister told us.” Their matching rings flashed silver in the well-lit bar.

A beat. Then the gears in Jayce’s alcohol-addled head spun. “Wait... the girl in the vents. Powder — that’s your sister?”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Yeah, duhhh.” She pointed at her head. “Pink hair? Blue hair? Kind of obvious?”

“What? I’ve never seen her,” Jayce balked, “And that’s not how genetics work. That’s not how genetics work at all!”

“It does, if we’re sisters!”

The conversation devolved into playful drunk hysterics. Behind the bar, Vander looked over at the mess they were making and smiled.

Jayce had spent the few days since his arrival sequestered in a private room with Sky and Viktor, who was still a robot. While the rest of the team in the main lab slowly and safely decanted the new Avatars, Sky covered all of the Avatar training.

There was a dizzying amount of information: pre-link safety checks, basic survival skills specific to Pandora, to name a few. Luckily, Sky was a breath of fresh air. She was measured, patient, and open to all of his questions. He was worried about his lack of knowledge, but she didn’t make him feel foolish.

The same, however, could not be said of Viktor. The robot would go silent for long periods of time. It was never clear if he was actually listening. Whenever Viktor did actively participate, he was helpful enough to answer some of Jayce’s questions — albeit in a short and clipped manner.

Other than that, Viktor had continued to bluntly ignore all of Jayce’s attempts at a friendly working relationship. If Jayce hadn't known any better, he would have been afraid Viktor might actually be a robot. He had absolutely no clue what he had done to invite this behavior. After all, Viktor seemed to get along with Sky like a regular human being.

But in the end, it didn’t matter why Viktor was acting like this. Jayce had faced worse collaborations and come out the better for it. He just had to... stay steady and work through it.

Later that night, Jayce tossed and turned in his bed. As he had every night since he arrived, he stared at the wall, unable to sleep. He disliked the idea of unconsciousness after being in cryo-sleep for so long. He was aware that this was a common symptom among the freshly decanted, but he had yet to take a trip to the pharmacy for sleeping pills. Because, well... they would make him sleep, and he didn’t want to.

In the absence of sleep, his thoughts rattled around his head. It was hard being the new kid in town, and even harder living up to his reputation. In his suspended state, he had been unaware his bio-battery research had gained so much traction — even on Pandora.

Time and distance were the perils of space travel. Six years had passed for everyone else, but it had only been a week for Jayce. On Earth, he remembered completing and publishing his research. A mere month later, he had stepped onto the giant ship bound for Pandora. He hadn’t even told his mother before he had cut and run.

Jayce’s heart sank. She would have received his letter after he was gone. What did she think of him now? Was she even still alive? Had she died of heartbreak?

He had thought that time and distance would help. Fuck. He rubbed his hand over his face. Turned onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow.

Frozen in time, he hadn’t even aged.

Jayce had already established something of a daily routine, so he found himself awake right before the artificial lights in his windowless room glowed softly to signal the start of the day.

He groaned and curled into himself. The endless training and little sleep over the last few days, not to mention hanging out with Caitlyn and Vi last night, was adding up.

Laying there, he took a deep breath and decided to face the day. Tomorrow would be the first time he linked to his Avatar, and he needed to make a good impression today.

As he got up, he was mildly pleased to find that his alcohol tolerance had survived the trip over. He hummed as he selected clean clothes from his meager drawer, and went to take his morning shower.

When he pushed down on the door handle to the bathroom, he found that it was locked.

It took his sluggish brain a moment to figure it out. Only his next-door neighbor could have locked it. Two single occupancy rooms shared one bathroom between them, and each room had their own door leading into it. The doors were lockable from both sides. He had assumed the room next to his was empty, but this was clearly not the case.

Jayce winced and remembered the state he had left the bathroom in. His mother would have scolded him about the importance of respecting shared spaces. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Mom, he thought sadly.

Setting his clothes down, he left the room to stand in front of his neighbor’s door. There was no name on it, but he could hear faint shuffling noises from inside the room.

He knocked and waited. The noises stopped, and the door clicked open a few seconds later.

“— Hey!” Jayce started before it was fully open, “Sorry about the —”

Woah. Woah.

A man with shoulder-length hair, wavy and a little messy, stared at him from behind nearly luminous golden eyes. His gaze was surprisingly intense, pinning Jayce down like a rabbit under a ravenous hawk before the fatal strike. Jayce shivered. The lines of his face were not helping this impression at all. They were sharp and angled, delicate yet strong, and—

How long had Jayce been staring?

The man in the door blinked. He slowly shifted his weight onto one leg before focusing on Jayce again.

Jayce’s ability to deal with very attractive men had decidedly not survived the trip over. “I’m Jayce, your neighbor.” The other man slightly furrowed his brow and tilted his head. He looked confused.

“I’m also new. I’m on the science team, you know, with the —” He started miming a walking motion with his hands, then felt foolish and stopped, “Avatars. I just wanted to say — I’m sorry if the bathroom’s a mess. If you could unlock my side of the door, I’ll clean it up right now.”

Good recovery, he thought to himself.

The man studied him for a moment, eyebrows furrowing even further. Then, his face cleared. He smiled, nodded, and shut the door. A few moments later, Jayce heard a knock.

“What — oh, thanks!” Jayce called through the door. He jogged back to his room and tried the door handle again. It opened.

Jayce checked the time. He was starting to run a little late if he wanted to make it to the mess hall and be on time for the lab. Luckily, the bathroom was unkempt, but not offensively so. He straightened everything out and took a quick shower.

On the way out, he paused to rip a page out of his journal. He jotted down his full name and communicator ID, then thought for a second, and wrote — ‘Do you want to grab a drink sometime’”

He thought about it some more, then added a smiley face at the end — “:) ”

He shrugged. Why not? He folded it up, left his room, and surreptitiously taped it to his neighbor’s door.

In the mess hall, Jayce was busy cramming oatmeal into his mouth when he saw his new neighbor again. He was seated across the room, speaking to a dark-skinned woman tastefully clad in gold filigree. Even from behind, Jayce could tell it was the second-most recognizable person (after Ekko) on the base: Mel Medarda, Chairman of the Board.

This guy must be pretty high up, Jayce thought. He wondered why his neighbor was in a single room and not one of the suites, but it was probably normal here if Mel Medarda herself ate in the mess hall with everyone else.

Jayce had almost finished eating when he looked up and saw his neighbor looking in his direction. He tried a friendly wave, feeling a little self-conscious.

The man blinked and looked caught off guard, but smiled and waved back. Everything about him seemed friendly, but even from far away, Jayce could see that the intense look in his eyes had returned. He had seen the note, then.

Jayce suppressed a shiver and ducked his head down, shoving the rest of his breakfast down his throat. He got up from his seat and headed to the lab.

Jayce arrived at the lab a few minutes early. He found it far less busy than the last time he was there. Some of the scientists, wearing rebreather masks and dressed in isolation gowns, were inside a windowed room with the newly decanted Avatars. Jayce felt a surge of excitement as he spotted them.

He approached the window and looked down at his own face as a Na’vi. It didn’t feel uncanny and strange; it just was. His face was longer, narrower, and had a feline quality — characteristic of the Na’vi — but it was still unmistakably him.

His Avatar lay there with its eyes closed, strong chest rising and falling, as if it were asleep. It had a strong frame, toned muscle visible just beneath the blue skin. It was perfect. Feeling happier than he had in a long time, he looked toward his counterpart on the other gurney.

His breath stuttered when he saw it. Sure, he found Na’vi generally appealing, all long limbs and feline grace, but this one was beautiful, lean form and sharp lines, like —

He recognized the face.

OH, SHIT.

Jayce panicked. He wasn’t going to survive the next ten minutes, let alone the next year — he was going to die from embarrassment first. Scratch the Avatar program, scratch the science, scratch the whole thing. He needed to get back onto the ship and leave.

“Dr. Talis.”

If the ship had already left, he could just — try to make it in the forest. The Na’vi did it all the time, why couldn’t he? He ignored the long list of predatory fauna extant to this area of Pandora.

“Talis.” Something poked him hard in the side. Jayce looked down to see a cane.

He blinked. “You didn’t have that before,” he said dumbly.

“You weren’t paying attention.” Viktor’s voice sounded different coming out of a human throat and not a metal speaker. Jayce watched delicately calloused hands grip the handle of the cane. “I wanted to, ah, apologize for my deception by omission. You caught me by surprise. I thought you would recognize me.”

“Yeah, well,” Jayce rubbed the back of his neck and met Viktor’s gaze through the reflection of the window. He gestured at their Avatars. “I did eventually.” Viktor chuckled, and Jayce felt something uncurl in his chest. “Listen, sorry about the, uh, note.”

He turned away from the window and met Viktor’s golden eyes, brightly lit under the fluorescent lights of the lab. “It was unprofessional of me — won’t happen again.”

Viktor looked pained. He opened his mouth —

“Hey, guys!” Sky hurried into the lab. “Sorry I’m late. I went to the other room by mistake — oh, you’ve already met your Avatars. What do you think? Not bad, right?”

Jayce swallowed. He smiled. “Yeah,” he said, “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Chapter Text

“Is that Jayce Talis you’re waving at?” Mel asked. She didn’t look up from her plate, eyes demurely cast down in an expression of innocence.

Viktor knew better. “How did you know that?”

“I have eyes in the back of my head.”

Viktor huffed. “You have hair on the back of your head.”

“That’s why you can’t see them,” Mel parried easily, eating a measured spoonful of oatmeal. The two of them were eating breakfast in the mess hall. Mel liked to be seen there to look approachable to the rest of the base. Viktor had to admit — it was a good idea.

Viktor narrowed his eyes, unwilling to give up his line of questioning. “Who told you?”

“Elora,” Mel answered. Her assistant.

“Who heard it from?”

“Caitlyn.”

“Who heard it from Powder,” Viktor groaned, rubbing his temples. “I hate gossip. This is why I stay in my lab.” He had received Jayce’s note on his door not twenty minutes ago. No one else knew about it — and yet, the rumor mill turned anyway.

“Liar. You love it — when it’s not about you.”

Dr. Singed had refused — allegedly for safety reasons — to authorize a link unit in Viktor’s lab. If he wanted an Avatar, he would have to stay here — on the base.

Viktor hadn’t lived here in years, not since becoming a senior researcher. He hated it here. There were people everywhere and all around you, eyes watching you no matter where you went. It was too reminiscent of his childhood, where neighbors lived on top of each other, stacked into filthy apartments barely bigger than a shoebox, where their excrement flowed together and ran down the exterior where the pipes had burst from the cold.

The second he had been promoted to senior researcher, Viktor had immediately applied to convert a field station into his private lab — granted, on the condition that he continue to collaborate with the scientists on the base.

When the lights came on — a cheap facsimile of daylight — Viktor sat on the edge of the bed and surveyed the room.

His room, now. What little he had managed to bring over the past few weeks sat neatly on the shelves: a few books on neuroengineering, his tools and boxes of components, painting supplies, two framed pictures — one of his mother, one of himself she had taken of him. The grand culmination of his life.

Distantly, he registered the sound of the shower running, which meant that Jayce was already awake. Speaking of — he reached into his bedside drawer and removed the note the other man had left on his door yesterday. He reread it and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Do you want to grab a drink sometime :)

What had Jayce seen, when they stood face to face for the first time? He remembered feeling amused when the other man had failed to recognize him, then disbelief when he realized that Jayce — without knowing who he was, without Viktor saying a word — had looked at him for all of ten seconds and found him attractive.

Viktor frowned. The other man had appeared sleep-deprived, but still in control of his mental faculties. He trusted too easily — really, Viktor could have been anyone.

The shower stopped running. Viktor heard the sound of a door closing.

That was his cue. He picked up his cane, leaning against the bedside table, and stepped into the bathroom. The steam left over from the shower was comforting — made it easier for him to breathe. The air in the base was recycled, and always slightly too dry for his scarred lungs. He took a deep breath. He could smell the mildly scented soap left over from Jayce’s shower.

He wiped the fog from the mirror and looked into it. What had Jayce seen in him? Slightly distorted, his tired face stared back at him. In it, he recognized his mother, whom others had described as attractive, even when her sickness had trapped her in her bed. He himself had been called handsome before, too — more than once. But everyone who did always paused at the end — the implication if you didn't have that leg hanging over the compliment, like an anchor strapped to a struggling bird.

From his own eyes, he couldn't tell what he was. He had dark circles under his eyes from too-long nights, and gauntness in his cheeks from too-little meals. He didn't know what Jayce had seen.

Viktor pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. It was useless to keep ruminating. Whatever Jayce had seen was superficial and short-lived. Now that he knew who Viktor was, what he was like, and that he was crippled, he obviously wasn’t interested anymore. Jayce had told him the note was unprofessional. Won’t happen again.

Fine. It made no difference. Viktor was professionalism into perpetuity. He had to be, in order to achieve his goal: finally completing his research after years of being sidelined and rejected. Personal feelings had no place in that. No Jayce Talis could interfere with that.

Someone like Jayce could never understand Viktor’s situation. He was handsome and easy to like. He made everyone around him feel important. People like him moved through the world with ease, and were granted opportunities commonly denied to others. Unlike Viktor, he had no issues being accepted into the Avatar Program.

Such was the disappointing nature of life. Viktor sighed and went to stretch his leg and back, lest they stiffen up while he was lying in the link unit, and make it even harder to walk after.

When Viktor walked into the lab, Jayce was already there, talking to Sky.

Viktor decided to take the initiative. “Good morning, Sky. Dr. Talis,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Dr. Sokolov,” Jayce replied, looking relieved at the acknowledgment, “Big day today.” His expression turned nervous.

Viktor was more anticipatory than anxious. This was the moment he had been preparing for for years. “Shall we begin?” he asked Sky, who smiled and gestured for them to follow.

In the Link Room, the link units were arrayed in a concentric circle around the control center. They were large and bulky, slightly coffin-shaped, with an inner bed and cover designed to hold one person each. Viktor didn’t comment when Jayce selected the unit next to his. It was a practical choice, if they were to enter and exit their link at the same time.

Viktor leaned his cane against the standing tray, then hoisted himself onto the inner bed, lined with a soft gel. He used his arms to move his weaker leg into place, then lay down, reaching up to pull a steel overlay, lined with thousands of sensors, down over him.

Next to him, he could hear Sky assisting Jayce. Viktor frowned. Jayce didn’t need the help.

Sky stepped back into view. “I think we’re set. Remember, the first link can be hard on your nervous system. Just lie back and try to clear your mind. Let us know if you need an emergency stop at any time. Ready?”

Viktor nodded. When the cover lowered over him and clicked into place, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

He steadied his breathing — in, out, in, out, in, out — but his mind refused to calm. The link unit reminded him of the table in that sterile, white room before his surgery. He had laid on it, waiting for the sedation to take effect, forgetting to count down because he was too busy wondering if he was ever going to wake up again — if these were the last moments he —

“ —tor. Viktor!” He opened his eyes. It was Sky, speaking from the tinny microphone inside the unit. “Your vitals just spiked. Are you okay? Do we need to — do you —”

“No!” he snapped, wincing at his tone. “No,” he repeated, softer this time, “Give me a moment.”

“.... Alright.”

Viktor steeled himself. He would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He had endured too much to stop now. He closed his eyes again, trying to bring himself out of the sterile, white room.

Instead, he imagined lying in an open field, from the only time he and his mother had gone out of the city. In that field, the oppressive smog had lifted, and he had breathed in clean air for the first time in his life. It was gentle and kind there. He remembered laying his head in his mother’s lap to look up at the clouds, passing high above them.

He breathed in, smelling the sun on the tall grass. Heard his mother’s laughter. A rush of wind tousled his hair, and he —

Opened his eyes.

The field was gone. In its place was the blurry ceiling of the lab.

“Dr. Sokolov, can you hear me?”

Viktor blinked, and the ceiling slowly swam into focus.

His first instinct was to lift his arm. He stopped and stared as a large blue hand — his hand — came into view. He flexed it, then clenched it into a fist. Fascinating. Raising his head, he looked down over the rest of his body, colored with alternating shades of blue and speckled with white. From a first-person point of view, it was even more obvious how much longer, taller, and stronger it was compared to his human body.

Sitting up, he peered at his reflection in the window. His Na’vi face, alien and different, stared back at him. But he had expected this, and didn’t find it unusual. Not even the presence of his new tail was shocking to him.

Despite his easy acceptance, something still felt off. He didn’t know what it was, and contemplated this while the lab assistants fussed over him like buzzing bees in a hive, checking his vitals and reflexes.

Then, it came to him: his body no longer ached. He never noticed how much it had bothered him until it was completely gone.

He sat there for a few seconds, marveling at it all, the lack of soreness most noticeable in his leg. His legs. Excited, he started to rise from the gurney, ignoring the cries from the lab assistants telling him to stop.

Jayce, perfectly well-behaved and sitting on the other gurney, was staring at him with trepidation, “I really think you should wait —”

“No,” Viktor laughed, “Absolutely not. This is wonderful.”

“Dr. Sokolov, please sit back down! Get the sedative.” At the order, one of the lab assistants picked up a syringe and approached him. The human was tiny, nothing compared to Viktor in his powerful new body. Viktor laughed as he stood so easily, pulling leads and wires off himself as he did. He started toward the assistant, who nervously backed away. Smart man.

Now that he was standing, the room suddenly felt too small, pressing down on him on all sides. He couldn’t stay in this little room; he needed the open air.

“Sokolov, wait!” Jayce cried out, as he also tried to free himself from he machines. But by the time he was halfway through, Viktor had already reached the door to the outside and pushed it open.

He stepped into the sunlight, smiling at the warmth on his skin. In front of him, the fields and sky stretched open. His large and wide Na’vi feet made contact with the dirt. It delighted his senses.

Viktor started to walk, amazed at how easy it was. One foot at a time, a simple rhythmic motion without break. He was unsteady at the beginning, as his new body was proportioned differently, and he was unused to having two strong legs, but he quickly became accustomed to it. His tail contorted behind him, helping him balance. This was too easy. He started walking faster, almost skipping, then gave up all pretense and broke into a run.

“Wait! Slow down!” Jayce called out behind him, “They said we can’t run yet!”

Slow down? Viktor laughed. There was no slowing down. He couldn’t be stopped — he was glorious. His large, sturdy feet pounded, pounded, pounded the ground. Fields of crops and outbuildings flew behind him. He felt lighter than he had in a long, long time. His whoops and laughter mingled with Jayce’s shouting behind him.

In his fervor to succeed, he hadn’t fully considered the implications of inhabiting another body. He had thought about it, of course, but how could he know it would feel like this? He was utterly transformed, an alien blue butterfly that had burst from its cocoon and spread its wings.

His reverie was interrupted when something made a loud whooshing from behind, flying past Jayce, who yelped in surprise. Viktor groaned — that sound could only mean one thing.

In his Avatar form, Ekko flew past Viktor and turned sharply on his hoverboard to block his way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ekko shouted, tail flicking angrily behind him. He bared his fangs and hissed, “Scaring the shit out of Mike —” Oh no, the lab assistant Viktor had threatened. “— and running off like that? There are rules to follow, procedures! Procedures you wrote! You know why you wrote them — why they’re there!”

Viktor squashed the inexplicable new urge to hiss back. The adrenaline was starting to wear off. He gritted his teeth and stared at the ground, feeling like a scolded child. What had gotten into him? He had more self-control than this.

“I apologize,” Viktor said, “I forgot myself. This body, it’s — different. Please send Mike my apologies.”

“Tell to him yourself.” Ekko scoffed. He sighed and softened slightly, shaking his head. “Look, there’s no way I know what you’re actually going through right now, but part of it probably feels like you’ve been given a new life. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with. But this is still the same life, the one you’ve built here. You’re still a senior member of the team, and my friend. I expect you to act more responsibly.”

“Understood.” Viktor swallowed. Sometimes, Ekko’s belief in him was hard to bear. “Thank you, Ekko.”

Ekko smoothly dismounted his hoverboard, collapsing it in half to hold under his arm. “Feels strange having to say this to you, out of everyone I know. And you,” he turned toward Jayce, who stiffened, ears folding back, “Shouldn’t run after someone just because they’re running. You’re lucky the link was solid, or I’d be hauling you two back to base right now.”

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His tail swished nervously behind him. “Sorry about that. I think I got kinda excited myself.”

“Two peas in a pod.” Ekko shook his head again. “You guys will make a great team. Just — stay linked to your Avatars for the next few hours to get used to the neural strain. Don’t overexert yourselves. Jayce, make sure he doesn't do anything ridiculous. I gotta go.”

He took something out of his pocket and tossed it to Jayce — an extra communicator. They had left theirs back at the base. Then he waved and, with one last look, smoothly unfolded his hoverboard and dropped it. Instead of falling onto the ground, it stayed a foot above the ground. Ekko jumped neatly onto it and flew toward the base. Viktor and Jayce watched him leave.

“.....Wow. Where can I get one of those?” Jayce asked.

“They’re notoriously difficult to maneuver and don’t hold a lot of charge. Only useful at the base, really.” Viktor told him.

“Even accounting for the oscillating electromagnetic field?”

“Not enough surface area.” Viktor started walking. He wasn’t allowed to run, but he could walk.

Jayce followed next to him in silence. Their height difference was less pronounced as Na’vi, and their strides were almost the same length.

“You know, you don’t actually have to watch me,” Viktor informed him dryly.

“I know,” Jayce quickly replied, his ears twitching back. “I just think — we have a lot of time right now, so maybe we should talk about what we're going to do,” he said eagerly.

Viktor considered it. He nodded. “What are your plans for the bio-battery? I read your proposal. You claimed the neural network could benefit the battery, but neglected to go into detail, and I am having trouble seeing the connection.”

Jayce looked surprised. He hesitated. “To be honest, I'm not interested in doing more research on the battery. I was more interested in your work on the neural network. It was groundbreaking stuff. And the emphasis on shared consciousness — wow.”

“Then how did you get here?” Viktor stopped walking and looked into Jayce’s Avatar face, sleeker and sharper than Jayce’s human face.

“What do you mean?”

“The higher-ups approved your work on Pandora based on your proposal, so you are here because of the battery. If you aren't here for that, then you lied on your proposal. You lied to get here.”

“What? It's not like that, I —” Jayce stared at Viktor for a long moment. He took a deep breath, hanging his head. “It’s true,” he admitted.

Viktor sighed. “I thought so. I am familiar with your battery, as well as my own work. A connection between the two is superficially plausible, but ultimately unlikely.”

“Why didn't you say anything earlier?” Jayce’s tail hung between his legs. An expression of defeat.

“I didn’t say anything, because you were the reason my Avatar was finally approved. But you have also put my research in jeopardy. If someone finds out you lied to get here, you will be removed from the department. I was lucky they allowed me to continue my own research alongside yours. If you are gone, they might assign me to other projects. Until my research is complete, you need to maintain the illusion that your research is for the battery.”

“I can't do that,” Jayce answered. There was sadness in his eyes, and another emotion Viktor couldn’t identify. “I don't want to think about the bio-battery ever again.”

“If you don’t, then I’ll tell them what you have done.”

“Even if it puts your research at stake?”

Viktor nodded. “Mutually-assured destruction.”

“You sound like you've put a lot of thought into this. Is that why you were a little... unfriendly, when we first met?” Jayce asked, worrying at his lip.

“It was. Do you know how I got here, Dr. Talis? I rose from the depths of the Earth-slums with nothing but the strength of my belief in myself. I will not allow anyone to destroy what I have worked so hard to build. You might have achieved your life’s dream, but I have not. Do we have an understanding?”

Jayce looked at him. Finally really looked at him. Viktor stared back, unwavering. Jayce looked away and rubbed his hand over his face.

“We do. You don't have to worry about me keeping my end of the deal, Dr. Sokolov,” Jayce answered, “I’m sorry, I really am — I was genuinely interested in your work. If I had known, I never would have done it.”

“You’re here now. There's nothing more to be done,” Viktor said, shrugging. Jayce frowned, but said nothing.

They walked for a little while without speaking, before Viktor decided to change course. “So. Why are you so interested in my work? There is much research being carried out on Pandora — why mine in particular?”

Jayce took a moment to think. “I just — before I left for Pandora, Heimerdinger sent me all of the research being conducted here. Out of all of them, your paper on the neural network and tsaheylu was the one that stood out the most. It proposed so many interesting concepts that combined science and the metaphysical — things that can only be studied here — and theorized how it could help people in ways I'd never even thought about before. It was amazing.”

Flattery will get you everywhere, Viktor thought — and it was starting to work, just a little bit.

“I’ve since successfully built the proposed machine,” Viktor watched Jayce’s tail practically wag with excitement, “But it will not work without the precise and correct kind of data. It’s also a nebulous area of research and isn’t lucrative enough for investors, so I’ve had to make do with what little grants I’ve been able to get. I need to be in the field myself, and as you can see, I haven’t been able to. I have so many good theories, but they —”

“Need to be brought from the theoretical to the practical? Yeah, I know what you mean.” Jayce smiled shyly. He held Viktor’s gaze for a moment, then looked away. “It’s not fair that your research is in danger because of what I did. I’ll find some way to make it up to you, I promise.”

Viktor swallowed — a promise. Nothing about Jayce Talis made sense. He had expected anger, an argument — not this easy acceptance. Jayce was proud enough to lie, but humble enough to help. Thoughtful enough to carefully consider Viktor’s research, yet superficial enough to decide that Viktor was worth getting to know when he opened the door yesterday morning.

How... intriguing. Viktor was too curious for his own good.

“Dr. Talis, I have another question. Unrelated,” Viktor started.

“Jayce.”

“Pardon?”

“Please. Call me Jayce, if we’re going to be partners. ‘Dr. Talis’ is just so...” Jayce laughed nervously.

Viktor narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Jayce. Our work has yet to begin.”

“Yeah, okay, fair. Viktor —” Viktor’s heart stuttered traitorously. “What’s your question?”

“Your note from yesterday morning,” Viktor started. Jayce’s face flushed a darker shade of blue. Interesting. “You didn’t know who I was, or anything about me. We interacted for twenty seconds. You could have waited until tomorrow, or even next week. Why did you decide then?”

Jayce chuckled and turned away. “I saw an attractive man and just wanted to get to know him," he said in a casual tone. The bottom third of this tail swished from side-to-side.

The urge to ask, ‘What do you see in me now?’ rose in Viktor, but he remembered Jayce’s comment about unprofessionalism and squashed it down. They were amicable, but already in a complicated situation. It would do no good to complicate it further. They continued to walk along the perimeter of the base in silence, only broken by the rush of wind on the tall grass and the sound of people in the distance.

Mel Medarda, sensing weakness, dragged Viktor into another painting session. He would have resisted harder, but even he had to concede the need for a break.

It had been a while since they last sat together and painted. They had done it often while Viktor was recovering from his surgery, but nowadays they were both busier people (Mel even more so, being Chairman of the Board) and living in different places — Mel on the base, Viktor in his lab. It had been a while since the last session.

Viktor liked to think that he was a decent painter, a skill he had improved over the years. But Mel, being formally trained from childhood until her mother had brought her to Pandora, was simply too good at it. “The only lessons I ever actually liked,” she had commented.

Today, the subject of their painting was a small Pandoran healing rose, silronzem rosea, dark pink and cup-shaped, lying lustily on top of a sheet of deep blue, accented with gold. Next to him, Mel was doing something tricky with a palette knife Viktor had no hope of replicating. He was an engineer by trade and a mechanic by practicality, but he had no idea how Mel could create something so elegant out of such a blunt tool.

Sometimes, their sessions were spent in silence. Sometimes, they did nothing but sharpen their wit on each other. Sometimes, one talked quietly, while the other listened. Today, a strange energy permeated the air. Viktor couldn’t tell which Sometimes it was going to be.

Partway through Viktor adding a coat of blue to his painting, Mel broke the silence.

“So how are things going?” she asked. She hadn’t looked away from her canvas, eyes demurely cast down in an expression of innocence.

“With what?”

“Your research.”

“If you want to ask about Jayce, just ask.” He tried to continue painting as if nothing had happened, but couldn’t relax the line of his jaw.

Mel sensed his mood. “Is he causing you trouble?”

“No more than the usual. I can handle it,” Viktor deflected. He wished, not for the first time, that he was as unreadable as his automaton.

“I have no doubt you can. But if he causes you too much trouble, I could always have him killed.”

Viktor let out a bark of laughter. From her, that was a high compliment indeed. “Thank you, Mel. I appreciate the offer,” he said, “But it’s not what you think. Our research has been going well these last few weeks. There are no problems with Jayce the partner, but Jayce the person... he confuses me.”

Mel put down her brush and looked over her work. “Confuses you? How so?”

“He’s not what I expected. I thought that someone with his achievements would be more prideful — hungry for more recognition,” Viktor explained.

“Most scientists are. I doubt scientific advancement would happen otherwise,” Mel observed.

“Exactly — most who come here have hungered for it all their lives. But Jayce, he does not. He —" Viktor clicked his tongue in consternation. He couldn’t think of the right words to use.

Mel tapped the end of her paintbrush thoughtfully. “Some people also come here for a fresh start.”

“No, I don’t think that’s the case either.” Viktor reflected on his interactions with Jayce over the last few days. Jayce was interested in his research, and seemed excited to begin the real work, but whenever they weren’t actively engaged in discussion, he looked like he... turned himself off somehow. He was vibrant, attentive — but he disappeared the instant you took your eyes off him.

“It feels like... he’s running away,” Viktor concluded softly.

Mel was quiet for a moment. “Do you want to know what he’s running from? I could have someone look into it — with discretion."

Viktor hummed. “I would prefer it if you don’t. As long as it does not affect our work, I have no issue with it,” he replied, studying his canvas. His rendition had failed to capture the true liveliness of the healing rose. Compared to the live subject, his painting looked limpid and sad.

“You deserve a partner you can trust,” Mel told him.

“Jayce is entitled to his personal privacy. Though I am curious. Perhaps I will find out in time,” Viktor acknowledged. His research was his priority, not his new partner’s background.

Mel nodded. She put her brush and palette down, staring at the healing rose, deep in thought.

“What is it?” Viktor asked.

Mel sighed. “I received another message.”

“Your mother?” Viktor tensed. “What does she want?”

“The usual. It’s just been — years — since she last contacted me.”

“She does not deserve your forgiveness, nor your goodwill,” he told her, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

He watched Mel’s lip quiver, just once. Then her mouth hardened into a thin line.

“Thank you,” she said.

Lying in his bed that night, unable to sleep, Viktor looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. They stood out against the pitch-black darkness that was his room. He had finally put them up by carefully balancing each sticker on the end of his cane, and pressing it against the ceiling.

The stars were simple decorations — meant for the children on the base — but he liked them. On his ceiling, there was only one acceptable arrangement: the stars he saw that night, the day he went to the field with his mother.

They had spent the night there, lying on a thick blanket, bundled in their warmest clothes and a pile of quilts. His mother had pointed to each constellation, whispering their names to him.

They had fallen asleep with the stars above them.

Sometimes, he woke up in the dead hours of the morning, plagued by dreams of the past. At first, he would not remember where he was. When he looked up at the ceiling those nights, he believed he was still in that field, except the stars shone twice as bright.

Tonight, as he looked up at his stars, he thought about Jayce. Yes, Viktor had been angry, jealous, and frustrated. Jayce had cheated to get something he had worked so hard for. Before the other man had arrived, Viktor had readied himself for an uphill battle.

Despite himself, he found that Jayce’s presence didn’t grate on him as he had expected. Talking to him felt like drinking a warm cup of liquid, the warm heat slowly spreading through his chest. Jayce was sincere and considerate, the last person Viktor would guess had invented the bio-battery, which was a technological marvel. Deceptively simple in the way it worked, until you looked closer, and realized the complicated inner workings were nothing short of remarkable.

Viktor shifted in his bed as he remembered the moment he had confronted Jayce. Jayce had been so eager to please, willing to do whatever Viktor wanted to satisfy him. He could have asked for anything in that moment, and Jayce would have agreed. And the fact that Jayce had found him attractive — Viktor trembled and rubbed his thighs together.

His body felt overly sensitive. There was the scratch of clothing against his sensitive chest, the wetness between his legs, the heat in his core. He was pent up; these past few weeks, he hadn’t taken what little free time he had for himself. He had been busy moving into the base, then he and Jayce had been preparing for field work around the clock.

Viktor took a deep breath and smoothly slid his hand under his waistband, past his underlayers, to dip into his cunt. He rubbed a finger through his dripping folds to moisten it with slick, then carefully pushed in.

He sighed. No, it wasn’t enough tonight. He needed more. He needed to be full.

He sat up and placed a pillow under his weaker leg, then another behind his back to recline comfortably on the bed. Settling into place, he pressed two fingers back into his wet heat. He languidly rolled his hips, grinding his cock against the heel of his hand, twitching each time he brushed directly against the sensitive tip.

Viktor huffed. It felt good, but it still wasn’t enough. Biting his lip, he imagined Jayce's fingers instead. They were delightfully large, thick, and surprisingly dexterous. Viktor had seen those hands do everything, from shaping metal, to writing delicately in his journal. Just three of those fingers could easily stuff his cunt full, stretching him deliciously wide. Viktor imagined Jayce teasing him, musing if he should even bother with his cock, if Viktor was already having trouble taking just three of his fingers.

Viktor moaned. His thighs squeezed together as the image shot heat through him, cunt clenching and dripping around his fingers. He began to thrust them in and out of himself, tilting his hips and spreading his legs to ease the way. He cried out when he curled his fingers up to press directly against the spot that made his cunt go molten.

Shit, too loud. He shoved three fingers into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue to muffle his noises. The walls were a good thickness, but he didn’t want to take the chance that Jayce could overhear from next door. Viktor still had to look him in the eyes tomorrow.

But what if Jayce did hear him through the wall? Knew that Viktor was crying out for him, and came over to plug Viktor’s mouth with his cock to stop his loud whining? Viktor keened and thrust faster, grinding his cock harder against the heel of his hand, savoring the heat building below his belly. “Hnh!...Mmh,” he groaned around his fingers. He could hear the sloppy, wet sounds his cunt produced.

He slid a third finger in to join the other two, whining when his pussy quivered, delighted at the new stretch. The heat was building more quickly now, eager to crest and finish. Viktor tried to slow down and savor the sensation. Maybe Jayce was the kind of person who enjoyed taking it slow. Maybe he would pin Viktor against the bed with his broad body so he couldn’t move, that large and muscular torso pressing skin-to-skin against his. Maybe he would then rub himself against Viktor’s folds, spreading his pussy open with the head of his cock, slowly pressing himself inside at his own leisurely pace. Maybe he would ignore Viktor’s cries and demands for more, until Viktor surrendered and was helpless to do anything but go limp under Jayce, trembling and spasming sweetly while his pussy clung wetly to Jayce’s cock, refusing to let him go.

The heat deep inside of Viktor suddenly crested, more intensely than he had expected. He clenched down desperately around his fingers, barely breathing. Viktor’s eyes widened. Fuck, was he going to —

His toes curled as he came hard, harder than he had in a long time. “Nghhff…!” he tried to cry out as his mind went numb. Liquid gushed out of his cunt, down his hand, and onto the mattress. His eyes rolled back into his head, lashes fluttering as his body shook. He whined piteously, mouth going slack as he drooled around his fingers. Light-headed and dizzy, he brainlessly rolled his hips to fuck himself through his orgasm, prolonging his high, trembling at each distant spark of oversensitivity.

He didn’t know how long he spent like that, losing time, reduced to pure sensation. When the heat finally ebbed and he came back to awareness, he stopped moving and collapsed onto his bed with a sheer sense of relief. He was exhausted, heart pounding in his chest. He panted, willing his heart rate to slow down, and slowly withdrew his hands. One hand was sore, covered with slick and resting against his soaked pussy, still spasming with aftershocks and sending shivers down this legs. The other hand was adorned with teeth marks ringing his spit-slick fingers.

Viktor stared at his hands, then at the mess on the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, “Fuck.”

Chapter Text

“Jayce,” Viktor called from across the clearing. Jayce looked up from the ground he'd been surveying and saw Viktor waving him over. He walked towards him, trying to keep his tail still. The thing had a mind of its own, swishing from side to side at the most inopportune times like a dog's, and he was not pleased by the emotions it revealed to everyone around him.

Viktor hadn’t commented on it, but Jayce sometimes caught him sneaking glances at it during conversations — very unprofessional, and very embarrassing. He made sure to hold himself steady when he reached Viktor.

Viktor pointed to a group of mycelium next to them, glowing blue. “This is flare lichen, iris lichenas. Its reaction to mechanical stimulation is remarkable.” He proceeded to walk through the shrubbery. Everywhere he stepped, the plant flashed a beautiful orange color, leaving a trail of fire behind him.

“It’s beautiful,” Jayce whispered, pushing his tail-related concerns to the back of his mind. Even at night, the bioluminescent forest lit up their surroundings, the moss beneath their feet flashing where they stepped. Even the white dots on their blue skin glowed softly with a mesmerizing pattern that ran all along their bodies. Together, they walked among stars and galaxies.

For their research, they needed to be in the forest at night to see the tree roots under the ground, which glowed blue-green in the darkness. The roots functioned like nerve axons spread all over Pandora, forming the basis of the planet’s neural network. They needed to survey the area and collect data, taking readings and samples from the root clusters.

“So how much longer do you think you’ll take?” Vi asked. She was in her Avatar body, and — yeah, her hair was still pink. Somehow.

“Judging by the density of the area, probably another hour or so,” Viktor replied, “It shouldn’t take long. This was a good area for us to start.” Jayce stayed silent, but he felt a small surge of pride from Viktor’s words, managing to stop his tail before it could give him away. He was the one who had looked over the maps and suggested this area.

Vi shouldered her gun and scanned the tree line. “I’m not feeling too great about this, guys. The forest is too quiet.”

“We’ll try to finish as quickly as possible,” Jayce assured her, “Has Powder seen anything?”

Vi shook her head.

Unlike Vi, Powder didn't have an Avatar. Jayce had thought this strange. Powder, with her advanced acclimatization to Pandora due to being born on the planet, would be well-suited for an Avatar. When he had mentioned this to Viktor, he had smiled and assured him that she didn’t need one.

Jayce hadn’t understood what Viktor had meant until two hours ago, when they had touched down in the forest. Before the chopper had fully touched down, Powder had whooped, “See you later, suckers!” and had flung herself out of the helicopter, landing on the ground with a well-practiced roll. She had scrambled up a tree as easily as a salamander would, and quickly disappeared from sight.

Jayce had seen neither hide nor hair of her since. Her antics reminded him of the first time they had met face-to-face. He'd been walking down a random hallway when a voice had suddenly emanated from the vents. “Birthday Cake... Hey, Birthday Cake... over here.”

“Powder?” He had turned around, looking for the source, but had seen nothing. When he turned back around — there was, mere inches from his face, a petite woman with blue hair hanging upside-down from the ceiling. He was proud to say that he'd screamed — like any normal, regular person would.

He wasn’t sure exactly what to make of Powder, but despite her antics, she was smart as hell, loyal, and resourceful. All good things, as far as he was concerned.

“Jayce.” Viktor’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Can you hand me the signal analyzer? I think this is a good spot.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jayce reached into his backpack and handed it to him. His tail wagged. God dammit.

“This appears to be the densest cluster in the area,” Viktor said as he connected the analyzer to a long, metal probe, which he inserted into the ground. They examined the output on his tablet.

“Signal looks a little weak compared to the others. Maybe a little deeper?” Jayce suggested. Viktor nodded and pushed it deeper. They ignored Vi’s grin, and looked at the screen again.

“Looks good,” Viktor said after a while. Jayce nodded. “We’ll let it record for another 30 minutes, then compare all of the readings we just took.”

“Stay close,” Vi warned, “I don’t have time to babysit you. It’s just Powder and I here checking the perimeter.” Jayce nodded again.

He did not stay close.

It was his fault, but it was also his first time out in the field. He became absolutely mesmerised by the forest around him, and didn’t realize how far he had wandered. If the forests on Earth had looked like this, he thought, a little doubtfully, maybe humans would have hesitated before cutting it all down.

Jayce was kneeling to examine a cluster of fungi with glowing rings when something rustled in the tall grass a few feet away. He froze.

“Powder? Is that you?” he whispered as quietly as possible. She didn’t answer. Instead, he heard a low growl.

He tensed, turning his head to look at the bushes from the corner of his eyes, tail flicking warily behind him. Fuck. He spoke quietly into his communicator.

“I’m in trouble. Can you come get me?”

The communicator buzzed. “Sure, wh —”

The viperwolf lunged. Jayce threw himself out of the way before it could make contact and started running. Luckily for him, it appeared to be alone. He had probably crossed into its territory by accident. Sky had taught him that viperwolves were fast and stealthy, but weren't as clever when alone, and could be outmaneuvered... for a time. I owe you big time, Sky, he thought as he dashed over rocks and branches, thankful his Avatar body instinctively knew how to navigate the forest without falling flat on its face.

Behind him, the viperwolf was quickly gaining ground. It was going to be on him soon. He caught an overhanging branch and swung onto it, mindful that the viperwolf could also climb trees. He waited until it had started climbing up to him, then jumped off and kept running.

Where was everyone? Jayce panted. He couldn't run forever. It was much faster than he was. He really wished he had a gun — he hadn't completed the required training before setting off on this expedition.

“Jayce! Jayce, over here!” It was Viktor, somewhere to his left. Jayce changed directions.

He spotted Viktor standing some distance away, pointing his gun at him. Jayce grinned and ran towards him. “Hey!” he yelled, then felt the jaws of the viperwolf just barely miss his leg, “Oh, shit!”

“Duck!”

Jayce immediately did as he was told, flinging himself forward in a move that would have made his childhood baseball coach proud. Viktor fired his gun. The electro-cartridge struck true and downed the viperwolf, immobilizing it.

Jayce panted from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “Wow. Great shot.”

Viktor’s eyes were wide with shock, tail flicking behind him. He breathed heavily and stared at Jayce, then at the prone viperwolf. “Are you alright?” he rasped.

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” Jayce responded, sounding more confident than he felt. Viktor held out a hand to help him up.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Jayce asked once he was steady on two legs. “You some kind of secret agent or something?”

Viktor held up his gun and blew non-existent smoke off the barrel, like he was an action star. It looked ridiculous. Jayce found himself strangely charmed.

“I missed, actually,” Viktor said.

“Wait, wha —”

“— Forty meters, might be a new record. You guys okay?” Powder dropped down from a branch above them, holding her gun, which was absolutely overloaded with mods. Jayce was surprised at how easily she could carry it.

“That was unnecessarily dangerous, Powder,” Viktor said.

“I was waiting for Birthday Cake here to finally stop zig-zagging and give me a clear shot.”

Viktor made a considering noise. “I suppose that’s fair,” he allowed.

“Wait — I'm Birthday Cake? Why am I Birthday Cake?” Jayce spluttered.

“That’s easy — because you're the Birthday Boy.” Powder replied cheekily.

Jayce heard Viktor laugh quietly behind him. His face was composed his face by the time Jayce’s head snapped around to look at him.

“And what does she call you?”

Viktor allowed him a small smile. “A man has many names, and many faces,” he intoned.

“Yep, that's Fortune Cookie, alright,” Powder said, looking over her gun. “Hey, Vik, I’m not sure about this mod. You’re right about sustaining long-distance trajectory, but I feel like it's one or two degrees off the center.”

Viktor hummed. “That's significant. Bring it over to my lab and we’ll take a look. Good work, Powder.”

“I'll never fail you, Cookie and Cake,” Powder saluted, “Now let’s get outta here and find Vi, before wolfy here regains use of her limbs.”

Vi was understandably furious, but also upset.

“This incident report is gonna suck,” she groaned, “Your first day in the field, and you already put your Avatar in danger. Cait’s gonna freak.”

“It wasn't your fault, Vi,” Jayce assured her. He felt guilty for putting her in a difficult position. “How are you supposed to keep track of people wandering off in different directions?”

“Well, I did tell you! Ugh, you scientists and your research.”

“We should have listened. Won't happen again,” he assured her solemnly, “Is everything going to be okay with you and Cait?”

“Ehh, we’ll be fine. She'll get grumpy at me for a few hours, then we’ll —” Vi looked away and smiled to herself.

“Wow, great information to have, sister-in-law.”

“You’re welcome, brother-in-law.” She slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “But seriously, don't do that again. Or I’ll break into your link unit and draw on your face.”

Whey they had finished their work and were heading back to the chopper, Jayce hung back to talk to Viktor.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way,” Jayce said casually.

Viktor looked at him oddly. “Powder was the one who saved you,” he answered, clearly confused.

“It counts! You made me run in a straight line so Powder could make the shot. Genius move.” He leaned over and playfully nudged him. Viktor turned away from him, but Jayce could still see the curve of a smile on his face. Viktor’s tail swishing from side-to-side also helped, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Actually, Viktor, I wanted to ask,” Jayce continued, “Powder — how is she able to do all that without an Avatar? She’s practically superhuman.”

Viktor shrugged. “It happened before I came here. Powder and Vi... when their parents died, Powder disappeared into the forest. She was seven years old. They never found her.”

“What do you mean? She’s right here —”

“She was missing for three months,” Viktor explained, “They assumed she was dead, and gave up on the search. Then, one day, she walked into the base, alive. No one knows where she was. Not even the Na’vi.”

“Christ, that’s horrible.”

“She’s never told anyone what happened those three months. But since then, she’s been able to get around much in the way you saw today — and she can be a little eccentric.”

“Well, who isn’t?” Jayce agreed. Viktor’s explanation scared him. A little girl, all alone in the woods — and Vi couldn’t have been much older. She must have been inconsolable.

Viktor relaxed minutely, like Jayce had passed some sort of test. “Yes, who isn’t?” he agreed, “She’s been a great help with my machines. I wouldn’t have been able to complete my automaton without her.”

“Your automaton? The one you call... Blitzcrank?”

“Powder was the one who named it,” Viktor huffed, but he was smiling.

“Uh-huh.” No, Jayce could tell. Viktor was the one who had named it.

Viktor swiped his badge on the door. It unlocked with a click, and the lights inside his lab turned on. He gestured for Jayce to enter.

Jayce removed his rebreather mask as he walked in. He looked around the sparsely-lit lab. Most of the space was taken up by two long tables, covered with machinery, schematics, and tools. One corner of the lab was dedicated to Viktor’s living space: a bed smothered with quilts, a built-in table, a couch partially covered with a neon blue blanket, and a small kitchenette, from which Viktor produced a kettle.

“Coffee or tea?” he asked.

“Tea’s good, thanks,” Jayce replied. He looked around while Viktor set his cane aside and busied himself pulling items out of cabinets. The space was chaotic, but he could see an underlying organization to the madness. This was Viktor’s home, cozy in its own unique way. He smiled at the glow-in-the-dark-stars above Viktor’s bed, recognizing the Andromeda and Casseiopeia constellations among them.

“So you were only a few miles away the entire time? I never would have guessed,” Jayce teased.

“What does that mean?” Viktor set out two mugs — one white, painted with the words “I <3 Sceince”, the other a loud neon blue.

“Just — when you were speaking to me from your robot, I thought you were all the way on the other side of the planet.”

“With my leg, it’s difficult to make the trip daily, even with a transport,” Viktor explained mulishly.

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you waited until the last minute to see me," Jayce grinned.

Viktor huffed. “Chamomile or mint?”

“No green or black?”

“It’s nighttime,” Viktor explained, “If you drink caffeine, you won’t sleep.”

Jayce snorted. Obviously. “Is the coffee decaf?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Mint then. But I’m fine with caffeine — I don’t like to sleep anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sleeping feels like I’m missing out on something. You didn’t feel that way when you came out of cryosleep?”

Viktor took a sip of his chamomile. “I don’t remember.”

“When did you get to Pandora?”

“When I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen? How are you a scientist, then? I thought you needed a degree.”

“I was in a work-study program sponsored by the PCI.” Viktor explained. “I was allowed to continue my education while on Pandora. I came here, received my undergraduate, then my doctorate in neuroengineering. Remotely, of course."

“Wait —” Jayce sputtered, “You were part of the Pandora New Scientists Program? They only accept two students a year — from the entire Earth!”

Viktor smiled. “I know,” he said cheekily.

Jayce sat back and regarded Viktor, impressed. “I think I’m in the presence of a genius.”

“Ehhhh, a little bit of a genius.”

“Alright. So where’s that machine you were telling me about?”

Viktor took his cane and walked to one of the tables, where something lay under a sheet. He lifted it with a flourish. “The psionic interface. I’ve taken to calling it — the NeuralCore.”

The machine looked strange, even by Pandoran standards. Viktor unfolded a blueprint and showed Jayce the full schematics.

“It is the perfect marriage of Earth and Pandoran technology. The Core is made of pure neuro-fibers from the Well of Souls, interwoven with unobtanium from the planet.”

“Wow — how did you get that?” Jayce asked.

Viktor smiled. “Supply chain,” he answered, and refused to elaborate further.

The Core was a simple sphere, but its surface spiked and shifted incessantly, colors a blooming, iridescent oil slick. It was housed in a clear, rectangular container with metal edges. To Jayce, it looked more like an anomaly than a core.

“It’s amazing," he told Viktor.

Viktor looked pleased. “Come, let me show you the rest.” He gestured Jayce over to a monitor.

Viktor showed Jayce how they would program the NeuralCore using information from the planet itself. They would continue to gather data on Pandora’s neural activity, then feed it to the machine, which would learn using the data. It was obvious that Viktor enjoyed this part of scientific experimentation the most: theorizing and brainstorming.

“When the Na’vi connect directly to the planet, they are able to interact with the memories of their ancestors. Every account I have read describes these memories as being in perfect detail, just as real as you and I standing in this room. The memories are also completely objective, as the subject experienced them, without the memory distortions that come with emotions or time.”

“I remember, from your paper. Your theory is that humans can share memories with perfect recall, just like the Na’vi,” Jayce supplied.

“Correct!” Viktor became more and more excited as he explained, speaking quickly, “Humans already share memories using words. However, human recollection is faulty and prone to bias. Even if the memory were shared perfectly, it is still subject to the listener’s interpretation. This method would erase all of that. Reliving memories in perfect detail, just as it actually happened! No more lies.”

“Being able to recreate memories exactly as they happened can change the world, Viktor. Psychology, law, research, personal relationships — it could help so many people in so many different ways. I think it’s brilliant,” Jayce said. He watched Viktor look away, but not quickly enough to hide the flush on his cheeks. He was the most beautiful when he was like this, passionate and driven. “So when we obtain all the data, are we going to test it on Avatar volunteers?”

Viktor turned back to him. He looked hesitant. “Yes, but not volunteers. It will have to be us, at first.”

Jayce blinked. “How will we be able to evaluate the results in an unbiased manner? Our methodology would be flawed from the start.”

“Exactly,” Viktor replied, “That is why we must be the first step. As the creators, we are the only ones who can correctly test this technology, and determine if it functions as it should. When we are confident it works, we can transition to trials with Avatars. Then, after creating a neural interface safe for humans, we can proceed with human subjects.”

“Well. Your logic is sound. But how do we know it’s safe?”

“It is never one-hundred percent certain, but —” Viktor grimaced. “Avatars are safe. Humans currently cannot take the level of strain this would put on their minds, but Na’vi are predispositioned to the task.”

“...Go on.”

“In theory, if a human mind were first filtered through the Na’vi brain structure, they would have everything they need: the mental resilience of the Na’vi, and a method to connect to the NeuralCore. In conclusion: an Avatar.”

Jayce thought about it for a moment. Then he nodded. “It does make sense.”

“There is one more thing, however.” Viktor looked apologetic.

The plan seemed pretty straightforward as Viktor explained it, but the way he was so hesitant... it couldn’t mean anything good.

“How familiar are you with tsaheylu, Jayce?” Viktor asked.

“A fair amount. It’s ‘the bond’ — every connection the Na’vi make — to their animals, to each other, to the planet.”

“It is. I never brought this up in my paper, but —” Viktor shook his head and clenched his cane. His entire body tensed. He suddenly looked small, not at all like the unwavering man he usually was. Jayce felt the sudden urge to reassure him.

“Hey, Viktor, look at me.” Jayce stepped closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Viktor looked up at him, golden eyes wide in the dim light. “I promised to help you with your experiment, and that’s what I’m going to do. Anything you want to do that doesn’t try to kill me too badly, I’m willing to hear out — and I’m not off the hook yet, remember?” He grinned.

Viktor looked stunned. He relaxed in his hold. “Jayce,” he murmured, “You should value your life more.”

Jayce laughed, “Never.”

Taking a deep breath, Viktor began to explain, “Tsaheylu is simply a bond between two things, nothing more. But when two Na’vi are involved, it becomes... highly intimate and personal. Not necessarily sexual, but intimate.”

“I know. When a Na’vi is born, the baby and the mother tsaheylu to form a connection. When Na’vi mate for life, it’s also tsaheylu.”

“Yes — and every connection with the NeuralCore will be tsaheylu. To test it properly, we will need a control sample, so to speak. For proper comparison. First, you and I will need to try tsaheylu without the NeuralCore.”

Jayce took his hand off his shoulder to stare at him. “You mean, with the —” He wiggled his fingers.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Viktor was doing a commendable job keeping his face straight, but compared to his automaton, he was much easier to read, and Jayce was getting a lot of practice in.

“So what exactly is going to happen during this?” Jayce asked casually.

Viktor opened his mouth. “I’ve interviewed multiple subjects who have experienced it, both Avatar and Na’vi. No one has said the exact same thing, though it’s usually shared sensations, some emotions and thoughts. My impression is that it depends on the participants themselves.”

“Okay. So let me get this straight. We have to finish getting the data for this machine. We have to be the ones to test it. But first, we have to put our head tentacles together.”

Viktor lifted one shoulder, then dropped it. “If you want to put it that way.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then another moment. Then another one.

Viktor broke first. He snorted and pressed his lips together, shaking with mirth. Jayce didn’t do so well himself. He bent over, wheezing with laughter.

“Great, great!” He thumped Viktor (carefully) on his back. “Science!”

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted. Some of the group had already started drinking, so it came out a little garbled and uncoordinated, but Vander laughed all the same.

“A surprise birthday party, in my own bar? I had no idea!” He shouted, “Where did you get all this drink? You must have been saving it all year!” Vander reached out and hugged Vi and Powder to his chest.

“Half of it’s iced tea, actually,” Vi informed him, slightly muffled, “We ran out.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” Vander told her, “That’s my girls!”

“Wanted to avoid a scene like last year’s.” Silco said as he handed Vander a drink. “I’ve threatened half of them. They’ll behave.”

“And I threatened the other half.” Powder proclaimed.

Jayce smiled from his table in the corner, glass in hand. There were a good amount of people in The Last Drop. Vander was a respected and well-liked man on the base, but they couldn’t fit everyone into the bar, so it was just a close gathering for friends and family. Jayce had ostensibly been invited because he was Caitlyn’s nominal brother. But it was probably because he was new, and they wanted him to feel welcome; he appreciated that.

He leaned over to Caitlyn, who was watching the proceedings with a smile. “Who baked the cake?” he asked.

“Silco usually does. He doesn’t let anyone else do it.”

“How come?”

“He says that it’s a secret recipe from his grandmother. But, you know, that means it could be anything,” Caitlyn explained.

“Has anyone tried to find out?”

“Vi did, once. She said Silco threatened to bake her into the cake, but I’m pretty sure he did give her the recipe.” Caitlyn grinned and made eye contact with Vi from across the room. Vi looked worried, pointing to her own head and mouthing the word “Hat?”

“Hat?” Caitlyn mouthed back at her, “What — oh no, they lost Vander’s birthday crown.”

“Birthday crown?” Jayce asked.

“Yearly tradition,” Caitlyn explained. She pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

He waved her off. “Take your time, I’ll be here.”

Caitlyn went to Vi, gesturing around and doing her usual Detective Spiel. Then, she sighed and reached into Vi’s jacket, pulling out something resembling a fancy party hat. Vi laughed and apologized. Caitlyn fondly rolled her eyes.

Silco was busy playing the piano next to the bar. Vander sat next to him on the piano bench, leaning into him and whispering. Silco replied something that made Vander laugh. He stood and gestured for Caitlyn and Vi to join them. He tried to pour all of them a drink, but it ended in a struggle as all three of them refused to let Vander be the bartender at his own birthday party. Finally, Powder approached them, pose upright and stiff, as if she were the waiter at an upscale restaurant. Trying not to laugh, she took the bottle of moonshine and tipped it into their glasses, as if it were the finest French wine.

As Jayce watched, he suddenly felt far away from them, as if he were standing at the bottom of a deep and dark ravine, staring up at the lights in the distance — unreachable, untouchable. Jayce drained the rest of his glass. Maybe he should slip out quietly, while no one was paying attention.

“Am I interrupting?” said a voice with a familiar accent. Jayce looked up to see none other than Viktor leaning his cane against the table and taking a seat next to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, wincing at his disbelieving tone. He wasn’t in the best mood, and Viktor definitely didn’t deserve to have it turned onto him.

Viktor didn’t seem to hear him, or simply chose to ignore him. “I get an invitation every year,” he explained, “But I usually don’t have time to come.”

“Oh? What changed this year?” Jayce asked.

“I’m actually on the base.” Viktor shrugged, glancing at the large cake a few tables away. He caught sight of Powder and smiled as she approached them with two glasses in her hands.

“Vicky! At long last. What will it be? Iced tea, or iced tea?”

“Iced tea, please.”

“Good choice.” She placed one of the glasses in front of Viktor and winked. “It’s actually alcohol. Don’t tell anyone,” she mock-whispered to him.

“I won’t,” Viktor promised.

Powder turned to Jayce and set the other glass in front of him. “Birthday Cake,” she greeted in a serious manner, as if Jayce were a five-star general. Playing her game, Jayce nodded back, which seemed to meet her approval. Viktor smiled as he watched her walk away to join Ekko and her friends.

Viktor looked back at Jayce. “So, are you done with the calibrations we need for tomorrow?”

Jayce took a swig of his drink before answering. “Whaaat — work stuff? Let’s not talk about that right now. Let’s talk about — something else.”

“Like what?” Viktor looked curious.

“Like, uh —” Jayce searched his brain for something to say, “You never told me what you like to do. You know — hobbies.”

Viktor thought for a moment. “I like to build things. Make something out of nothing.”

“...I feel like that counts as work,” Jayce said.

Viktor frowned. “Not true. Building is a general activity that many people enjoy,” he argued.

“What do you usually use the things you build for?”

“...Work,” Viktor answered matter-of-factly. He scoffed at Jayce’s grin. “Fine. Tell me something you like to do””

Jayce thought for a moment. “I like to work with my hands. Metalwork, woodwork, carving things.”

“And that’s not for work?”

“Some of the time — hey!” Jayce protested the triumphant look on Viktor’s face. “Not all of it! And definitely not carving!”

“It still falls under building things.” Viktor was smiling, eyes curved with pleasure. Jayce wanted to keep that look on his face.

“It’s artistic. Aren’t you a painter?”

“When did I tell you that?” Viktor asked, brow furrowing.

Uh-oh. Jayce tried to keep his tone casual. “When we saw the sunset in Kinglor Forest. Remember — we got there ahead of schedule and watched Alpha Centauri set. You said you wished you had your paints with you.”

“You remembered that?” Viktor looked surprised. “That was a while ago.”

Jayce flushed. Dammit. “Was it? I mean... I just found it interesting. I imagined you as your Avatar, sitting outside with an easel like Van Gogh or something — if Van Gogh was also a tall blue alien.”

“Or something,” Viktor said. He looked amused. “You’re very creative, Jayce. Do you also paint?”

“What? Oh — no, I doodle here and there when I’m bored, but that’s about it. I’ve never sat down seriously and worked on a whole piece.”

“What sort of things do you draw?” Viktor asked, leaning forward in interest. He looked different in this place, under the warm lighting, piano music playing in the background. Softer. More relaxed. His eyes took on a warm honey-yellow color, rather than their usual gold.

Jayce opened his mouth, then belatedly remembered his notes featured quite a few sketches of Viktor’s face, and too many of his eyes.

“Trees,” he replied lamely, “And roots.”

Viktor quirked his eyebrow, “For work?” he teased.

“Hey!” Jayce playfully kicked Viktor’s chair. “You know what — I think we’re just workaholics.”

“Agreed,” Viktor replied. They toasted to that, clinking their glasses together. They watched a rousing rendition of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” At the end of the song, Vander was royally crowned with his party hat. Cake was served. Jayce discovered the other reason Viktor had come: he had an insatiable sweet tooth, and devoured three slices while Jayce was working on just the one.

“You shouldn’t have accepted that second glass from Powder. Or the third. Or fourth, really,” Jayce grunted. He was supporting Viktor’s side with an arm around his thin waist, while Viktor clumsily maneuvered his cane to support his other side. “I thought you would be better at holding your drink.”

Viktor groaned. “Are you saying that because of my accent, you terrible man?”

“What does that have to do with your accent?” Jayce asked, bewildered. He was a few drinks in himself, he had to admit. Thinking was hard right now.

Viktor waved his hand dismissively. “Nevermind.”

Viktor’s warm heat was pressed all along Jayce’s side as they stumbled together down the hallway. It had been a very long time since someone was this close to him. Jayce sincerely hoped it was the alcohol heating his face, and not something else.

“Whew, okay.” They stopped in front of the door to Viktor’s room. Jayce steadied them by leaning against the wall, and patted the pockets of the other man’s jacket. “V, where’s your badge?”

Viktor tried to bat his hand away, “Naughty boy. Keep your hands — there —” His head lolled onto Jayce’s shoulder.

Jayce flushed. “Viktor!”

Viktor laughed. “Hah! Joking. I guess you got... that drink in — in the end,” he hiccupped. Jayce blushed as Viktor’s breath tickled the side of his neck. Viktor was silent as he blindly reached into the inside of his jacket and triumphantly produced a thin plastic card. Jayce took it from him and managed to swipe it on the door.

They stumbled into Viktor’s room, automatic lights flickering on. Jayce was now half-dragging Viktor, who was fading fast, apparently surrendering the last of his coherency now that he was safe in his room. His head was still on Jayce’s shoulder, soft long hair clinging to the static of Jayce’s sweater.

He murmured something Jayce couldn’t make out as he tried to lean his cane against his desk, but failed. The cane clattered to the ground. Jayce felt Viktor’s light but still considerable weight shift fully onto him as he slumped into Jayce.

“Woah, hey!” Jayce dropped Viktor’s card and used his other arm to also support Viktor’s body. He tried not to think about the location of his hands as he heavily shifted Viktor’s weight around, carefully laying him down across his bed, making sure not to jostle his leg as he did.

Jayce sighed at he stared down at Viktor, who was completely unconscious, soft even breaths disturbing the hair that had fallen into his face. He looked peaceful in his sleep, empty of the unrelenting drive that consumed his waking hours.

Jayce was good at this next part, from his party days in college — taking care of unconscious drunks. He shifted Viktor onto his side, pulled the blanket out from under him, and laid it over his body. Then, he rinsed out the half-empty glass on Viktor’s bedside table in the bathroom and refilled it. He found the pain pills in the medicine cabinet and placed two next to the glass. Lastly, he picked up Viktor’s cane from where it had fallen and laid it next to him on the bed. Viktor shifted a few times during this and made a few unintelligible noises, but otherwise remained asleep.

Jayce stood and looked over Viktor. Job well done, mission complete. Well, except for — Jayce reached out a hand toward Viktor’s face and gently brushed his hair out of the way, tucking it behind a delicate ear. He had a few girlfriends (and one boyfriend) who like to tie back their long hair while they slept. He didn’t know what Viktor preferred, but, well.

At the touch, Viktor grumbled and opened his eyes. They were soft and unfocused as they landed on him.

“...Jayce?” he mumbled. His voice was already deep with sleep, accent thicker than usual.

Jayce shushed him. “Hey, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.” He drew away to leave.

Viktor’s hand flashed out with surprising accuracy and gripped Jayce’s wrist. Startled, Jayce met his eyes, but he didn’t seem to be more aware than he was before.

“Mmmph... Don’t... don’t leave.” Viktor mumbled.

Jayce swallowed. His other hand reached over to rub circles over Viktor’s back. Viktor pressed back into his hand. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be right next door if you need me. Just knock on the wall like we usually do, okay?”

“...Please?” Viktor whispered, but his eyes were already drooping, and soon his breaths evened out again. He let go of Jayce’s wrist.

Throat tight, Jayce drew back, careful not to disturb Viktor any further. He turned off the light switch. The room was enveloped with darkness, except for a familiar array of constellations glowing on the ceiling. Jayce smiled. Even here, Viktor has his stars, he thought fondly.

He left through Viktor’s door to the bathroom. They had started keeping their bathroom doors unlocked. Whenever Viktor had an epiphany regarding their research, he liked to come into Jayce’s room and talk about it. To let Jayce know he wanted to visit, Viktor would knock on their shared wall. Jayce would knock back to let him know it was okay to come over.

Jayce sighed heavily as rinsed his face and got himself into bed. He fell sleep immediately.

The next morning, Viktor complained about his headache. He never mentioned anything else about that night, and Jayce couldn’t bring himself to ask.

When Ekko informed Jayce and Viktor that the Na’vi had agreed to allow them entrance to the Tree of Voices, the two thanked him profusely and set out as soon as they could.

Jayce had come up with the idea to take readings from the Tree of Voices. “I think the data we’ve been gathering from regular trees might not be enough,” he had explained to Viktor, “The Na’vi only communicate with their ancestors and the planet at certain kinds of trees, so it stands to reason that the activity near them is different.” Viktor had agreed.

They had landed quite some distance away in their Avatars, with Vi staying in the chopper to wait for them. The area around the Tree of Voices was safer, but also sacred, and Ekko had been clear about the Na’vi’s requirements.

“There will definitely be Na’vi watching your every move, so seriously. Be on your best behavior,” he had warned them.

The planet Polyphemus loomed large and luminescent in the sky above them as their made their way across the forest floor. The night was alive with the sound of creatures hidden in the underbrush. A blue glow seemed to infuse the forest. Jayce utilized his long Na’vi limbs to jump from tree to tree, branch to branch, before landing on the ground next to Viktor.

“Are you sure this is the right direction?” Viktor asked. Their navigational instruments didn’t work well in these kinds of areas, so they were relying on Ekko’s hand-drawn map and directions. Jayce had claimed to be the better navigator — something he was currently regretting — so he was the one stuck trying to understand Ekko’s directions.

“Well, we definitely crossed the ‘stream that splits into three’ a while back, so we should be looking for the “boulder completely covered with moss.” Jayce looked around them. Yep. No boulder. “Do you think we should ask for help from one of the Na’vi that’s definitely watching us?”

Viktor took the map from him and squinted at the paper. “Hm. I wouldn’t. They value navigational skills. If we are able to find it, maybe they’ll be impressed.”

“They’re definitely impressed right now,” Jayce deadpanned.

A rock flew far past them and landed on their left. They both stared at it.

Viktor made a considering noise and examined the map. “Ah, I see. We went too far to the right after crossing the stream.” He pointed in the direction of the rock. “This way.”

“Thanks!” Jayce called and waved in the direction the rock had come from.

“Now they feel sorry for us,” Viktor muttered, shaking his head, “It better not be Ekko’s friends.”

A considerable amount of navigation later, they finally caught sight of the Tree of Voices. It was a wondrous, brightly lit mass of soft purple light, sprawling across the entirety of a small islet at the center of a river. It resembled Earth’s willow trees in form, but instead of long hanging branches, there were curtains and curtains of long glowing tendrils. Jayce and Viktor slowly brushed past them and walked toward the center of the tree, until they were enveloped on all sides by waving, shimmering luminescence.

Viktor lifted his hand to carefully cradle the tendrils. “Utral Mokri, the Tree of Voices,” he said in a hushed and reverent tone, “I’ve wanted to see it my entire life.”

It’s a beautiful tree, Jayce thought, but it’s nothing compared to you. Ringed by the light of the gently swaying, glowing tendrils, Viktor was a religious painting brought to life. Regal and elegant, he stood there with wonder on his face and delight in his eyes. His pupils reflected the lights, shining like glimmering stars. He seemed larger than life, larger than the planet they had found themselves on — like he could cover the entire sky with one hand.

Viktor didn’t seem to notice the holy state of himself. “Jayce? Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.

Jayce wanted to kiss him. Instead, he swallowed and averted his eyes from the revelation in front of him. “It’s even more beautiful in person,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it is.” Viktor smiled. He reached back and took hold of his long braid, his queue. He lifted the very end to reveal a mass of tiny tendrils wriggling in the air, the mechanism that initiated tsaheylu.

Jayce laughed. “Still looks pretty strange — don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Are you going to connect to the tree?”

Viktor shrugged. “The Na’vi didn’t say we couldn’t, and none of them are currently trying to stop me,” he reasoned calmly. He held up the end of his queue to one of the tree’s glowing tendrils, and watched as his own smaller tendrils glowed the same color and slowly wrapped around the larger one.

He gasped, and his pupils dilated. “Jayce, I can hear them,” he whispered.

“The Na’vi’s ancestors?” Jayce asked.

“Yes!” Viktor said, delighted. He stared into the middle distance, hearing something that Jayce could not.

“What’s it like?” Jayce asked curiously.

Shaking his head, Viktor gestured to the tree. “Try it.”

“Are you sure?”

Viktor nodded. “It’s safe.”

Well, alright then. Jayce took a deep breath and held up his own queue to a glowing tendril. He braced himself, tense with anticipation. What would it feel like?

At first, nothing happened. Then, a sensation like the back of his head was being dipped in warm water.

Voices began to speak to him. Young, old, happy, sad — all of it. He couldn’t understand them, not knowing the Na’vi language. But it was wondrous. He became aware that these voices were in the vastness all around him, stretching across time, across eons. He made eye contact with Viktor, who looked just as awed. They stood there for a while, taking in the voices all around them.

When they finally disconnected, Jayce felt strange, like he was a piece that had been pulled from the whole.

He frowned. “Why didn’t we experience their memories?”

“We had no need for them,” Viktor explained, “If we wished to speak to a specific being, one of their memories is summoned. But right now, we’re just visitors. Nothing more.”

Jayce nodded. He was mildly disappointed, but they needed to get on with their work — they needed to take as many readings as they could in this place. The more the better.

“I can see why the Na’vi believe the planet itself is a deity,” Viktor said as the two prepared their equipment.

“Eywa? Do you think she’s real?” Jayce asked.

“I’m not sure. But if all the trees are nerves connecting all over Pandora, then it stands to reason that the entire planet is a brain, and that brain is Eywa.”

“Do you think Eywa could speak to us? As if she were another person?”

Viktor hummed. “I’ve never heard any account of that, even among the Na’vi. But it would be interesting to think about such a massive entity having a singular voice,” he mused.

They busied themselves with their work. While they were waiting for their readings, they lay under the tree and looked up through the glowing canopy. In the sky, they could see the planet Polyphemus and two of its other moons. Around those large celestial bodies, distant lights twinkled.

“My mother loved the stars,” Viktor said, “She taught me the names of all the constellations.”

“Is that why you have those glow-in-the-dark stickers?” Jayce asked.

Viktor smiled. “Yes. I know it’s childish. But I couldn’t see the stars on Earth — the smog, you know. I could barely see the sky most of the time.”

“I do.” It was like that in most habitable places on Earth. A combination of light pollution and smog. It was a terrible shame, and a terrible waste.

“I was so excited when I finally came to Pandora. Now, I can see all of the stars I want.” Viktor’s smile turned sad. “But they’re not mine anymore.”

Jayce turned his head toward him, considering his words. So Viktor felt out of place here too, even years after his arrival. He wondered if it was something they would always feel — like strangers unmoored from their home, wandering in a strange land.

“I don’t know — I think Pandora suits you,” he told Viktor.

Viktor turned to look at Jayce. Like this, they were so close. Jayce could easily reach out and touch him. “What makes you say that?”

“I just can’t imagine you on Earth. It feels like you’ve always been here — inventing things, doing research.”

Viktor quirked a brow. “That’s because you’ve only seen me here.”

“No, I mean — you just have this... sense of wonder about everything on Pandora. I really admire that about you. I thought I had lost mine, until I met you.”

Viktor looked away. His tail flickered between them. “I don’t think you ever lost it. You were just — preoccupied.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.”

Viktor hummed. He looked lost in his thoughts. Jayce allowed him his silence. He lay back, listening to the sounds of the forest around them, observing the rotation of the heavenly bodies. It was nice here. Peaceful.

After a while, Viktor shifted in place. His eyes were gentle, but hesitant. “I have a question. You can choose not to answer.”

“Ask away.”

“What are you running from?”

Jayce swallowed. By now, he knew Viktor well enough to know that he would accept the truth. And Jayce wanted to tell him everything — his sins, his past. But he didn’t feel ready, not yet.

“Myself. My mistakes,” he confessed instead. It was the truth.

Viktor looked like he wanted to know more. Instead, he nodded, and asked, “What was your favorite place? Back on Earth.”

That was unexpected. Jayce had to think about it. “Probably... Yellowstone.”

“The old National Park? With the geyser? I didn’t know they still let people in.”

“That’s the one. Some multinational corp bought part of it out a while back and turned it into an attraction. ‘The Last Wild Place In America,’ they called it.” Jayce laughed, shaking his head sadly. “It’s still beautiful. I went there once with my parents, then by myself a few times. My parents remember what it was like before they abolished the National Park system. They tried to instill their love of the outdoors into me — I guess it sort of worked.”

“I’ve seen old pictures. Doesn’t look like a real place to me.” Viktor smiled. “Less real than Pandora.”

Jayce remembered Viktor had mentioned he lived in the slums. “You didn’t get to go out of the city?”

“Just once, on a trip. When our experiment works, I can show you.”

Jayce smiled. “I’d like that. I’ll show you all of my favorite places, promise.”

“Alright. I promise too,” Viktor replied. They grinned at each other, giddy with the idea of their experiment succeeding.

The day of the first experiment, Jayce and Viktor linked to their Avatars, then drove a transport to Viktor’s lab. Their human bodies were back at the base, but they planned to keep their Avatars at his lab to access the NeuralCore. The transport was designed to store unlinked Avatars in the field. It felt a little odd, driving as a Na’vi, but Jayce managed to do it with all of his limbs intact.

They couldn’t stay inside the lab for too long due to their Na’vi bodies, so they stayed outside. They opened the doors in the back of the transport and sat there.

“Test log tee-one-dash-zero-one,” Viktor said into his recording device, “Jayce and I are attempting the first tsaheylu as a control before we experiment with the NeuralCore. Session begins.” He hesitated for a moment, then set the device next to them, still recording.

They held the ends of their queues in their hands, the neural appendages unfurling and wiggling in reaction to the open air.

“Ready?” Jayce whispered.

“Yes,” Viktor answered. He didn’t look ready. “Take a deep breath.”

They held the ends together; watched the tendrils begin to glow and slowly dance around each other, then intertwine. Finally, the tendrils stopped moving, completely intertwined.

Jayce felt the familiar warmth at the back of his skull, then —

Jayce and Viktor choked.

It was nothing like connecting to the Tree of Voices. From the Tree, they had only heard sounds. With this —

They could feel everything.

Jayce could feel the way Viktor breathed, faster exhales than inhales, the rise and fall of his thin chest. The flutter of his heart and tightness in his throat. The way Viktor’s arm felt locked in place holding his queue. All these things belonged to Viktor, but now they belonged to Jayce, too. He looked up and met Viktor’s beautiful golden eyes.

Said eyes widened, and Jayce simultaneously realized that Viktor had heard him through the bond. He tried to stop, but it was too late — He means, it’s not like he could help it. Not with those eyes. They were the first thing he saw, that morning when Viktor opened the door — the thing that had grabbed him immediately. But really, it wasn’t all just looks, it was the way they pinned him to the spot, the intelligence behind them, the drive! He could almost feel the molten heat of them when Viktor was determined, the way they glittered whenever he was excited. The curve of his cheek when he was smiling without smiling. The way Viktor’s mouth turned into interesting shapes whenever he was thinking about something —

One of them whimpered. Jayce didn’t know who.

— Jayce really needed to stop looking at him like that, before he remembered how much he ached. He ACHED. Wonderful Jayce and his beautiful heart, who reached out with cupped hands and cradled him in his palms like he was a moth, gently stroking his wings, cooing. Oh, how he wanted to kiss him and lay there in his sunlight. But he was a hollow, starving thing, his voracious desires coiled tightly in the cavern of his chest. And he was afraid. So, so afraid. How could someone as good as Jayce see anything in him? If Jayce saw him for who he really was, he would be disgusted by him and his starving needs. His ugly love. He needed to keep away. Keep his obsession away from Jayce. Viktor would consume him. If only he could bask in him for just one more moment, just one —

Jayce felt something tear away from him. He gasped, missing its presence, then realized it was Viktor, who had ripped his queue away from Jayce and undone the bond. Viktor had turned away from him, panting and shaking, curled over himself.

“Viktor?”

Viktor began to fall. Jayce cried out and rushed over to catch him before he hit the ground.

“Viktor?” His eyes were closed. “Viktor!” Jayce shook him, but received no response. Had tsaheylu done something to his mind? Jayce gently lowered Viktor to the ground, then scrambled to get the communicator.

“Sky? Sky, are you there?” He tried to calm his breathing as he stared at Viktor’s unmoving body.

A moment passed, then Sky was speaking to him through the communicator. “Jayce? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but — it’s Viktor! He suddenly, I don’t know, he fell and he won’t wake up. Do you have anyone on the medical team nearby, I think he’s —”

“Wait, one second — Viktor, Viktor! Jayce is —” Silence.

Sky returned. “Jayce, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened, but Viktor just came out of the Link Room and left. He looked like he was in a rush, but seemed... fine. Are you guys okay? Did something happen?”

Viktor had abandoned his Avatar and run away.

Jayce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Sky. Let me know if he comes back, okay?”

“Okay.” She sounded unsure.

Jayce put down the communicator. He took a moment to steady himself, then sat next to Viktor. He needed to put him back into the transport to keep him safe. Jayce sighed and looked at Viktor's face, reaching over to push away the hair that had fallen messily over his face.

"Viktor,” he murmured to the empty body, “Your love could never be ugly. It’s beautiful — like coming home.”

Chapter Text

Viktor opened his eyes inside the link unit and immediately threw his arms against the cover. He tried to stand, but cursed as he stumbled instead, catching himself against the edge of the unit. His cane clattered to the ground.

He gritted his teeth. There was no time. He had to get out before —

Before Jayce caught up to him.

Determined, he managed to snatch his cane off the floor by awkwardly crouching on one leg and bracing one arm against the unit. He strode out of the link room as quickly as possible without drawing the attention of his colleagues. He tried to keep his eyes on the exit, but saw Sky anyway. She was speaking into her communicator, an anxious look on her face. Viktor went past her and kept walking. He was almost at the door when she called out to him.

“Viktor, Viktor! Jayce is —”

He turned around to face her. Whatever expression she saw on his face silenced her.

He refused to linger any longer, and left.

He was avoiding Jayce.

Viktor knew that Jayce wasn’t responsible, but he couldn’t stop being absolutely furious at him. Every time he thought about it, a dark ball of anxiety solidified inside of him and made it impossible to think clearly.

He felt embarrassed and ashamed. How could he have let it slip so easily? Jayce had seen how he felt, how he ached —

Viktor slammed his wrench down onto his table, breathing heavily. He was back in his own lab. As soon as he was certain Jayce was no longer linked to his Avatar, he had snuck back in and locked himself inside. Their Avatars lay abandoned in the transport outside.

Jayce had not come to confront him, or even sent a message; Viktor knew Jayce was giving him space — for now. Once too much time had passed, Jayce would come and knock on his door, asking to talk.

Talk. Talk! There was nothing to talk about. Jayce knew everything.

Viktor tried to find comfort by throwing himself into his automaton work, but it didn’t calm him down like it usually did. He felt like he was rotting from the inside. His leg hurt. He barely ate. All he could think about was Jayce Jayce Jayce, bouncing around uselessly inside of his brain.

Viktor knew he had to continue his research. That was the bottom line. There was nothing more important than completing the NeuralCore. But completing the NeuralCore meant more tsaheylu, and Viktor was — ugh!

How could he not have realized how painful it would be? He had been an open book, entirely unable to hide his thoughts from Jayce. Jayce had thought about Viktor’s eyes, but Viktor had thought about his deepest fears. It was ridiculous and unfair, he just —

His unproductive ruminating culminated on the second day when he realized, through the haze of emotional pain, that he was scared. He was angry, he was embarrassed — but what he really was, underneath it all, was scared.

He was lying on his bed, staring listlessly up at his stars, when he heard a tapping sound from above. He sighed and knocked on the wall.

Powder dropped down from the ceiling. “Hey,” she said, “You want some pancakes? Eggs and mystery meat?”

“Not now, Powder. I’m busy,” Viktor mumbled, limply waving his hand. Emotional numbness had set in, like all of the feeling had been sucked right out of him.

Powder shook her head. “No can do, Vik. You promised to help me build Rachet last week. I have big plans for him, and I need you in working order.” She reached into her pack and produced a container. “Vi made this for you. Mystery meat and pancakes. Are you going to eat it, or should I tell her you didn’t eat a single bite?”

Viktor groaned and surrendered. “Fine.”

Powder beamed. She set the container on the table and gestured to Viktor. “C’mon. Can’t eat syrup in a bed.”

He sighed, wrapped his coziest blanket around himself, and limped over to the table. His stomach grumbled when he smelled the delicious scent of fresh food. In his lab, he mostly subsisted on rehydrated food and ration packs. On the base, he had gotten used to eating freshly-prepared food, and he had to admit that Vi was an excellent cook.

As he ate, he heard Powder quietly tidying up around him. “Thank you,” he said softly, afraid of acknowledging his pathetic state.

“Mhm,” Powder replied, “Do we have enough water for a bath?”

“For me? What’s wrong with a shower?” he asked, confused.

“Is that a yes or no?” she repeated.

Viktor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Powder hummed, pleased with his answer. She pulled out the giant tub out from under one of the tables, removed the items inside, and set it up behind a makeshift screen. The tub had mysteriously appeared years ago, after Powder started spending time in Viktor’s lab. She had been eager to learn the intricacies involved in building machines.

It happened while Viktor was in the tub, soaking in the warmth and quiet. A terrible wave of feeling suddenly welled up from deep inside him and overflowed through his eyes. He tried to keep quiet so Powder wouldn’t hear him from behind the screen, but as he reached up to wipe away the tears, a sob escaped his mouth.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He felt small and weak as he curled into himself and started to cry in earnest, pushing all of his feelings out at once. Distantly, he was aware that Powder, eyes averted, had come around the screen, and was rubbing his back soothingly. His tears felt too exposed, too raw, and he wanted to disappear — but he was still glad he wasn’t alone.

Later, he lay on his bed freshly clean, bundled up, and dozing.

“Anything else you need?” Powder asked him as she packed up and prepared to leave.

Viktor shook his head sleepily. “Your excuses need work. You could build Rachet with your eyes closed,” he mumbled.

Powder grinned. “I know. You’re welcome,” she replied, and left.

Viktor smiled and fell asleep.

He felt better when he woke up; it was easier to think. He made a cup of tea and sat at his table, drinking it slowly as he considered his options.

He had to continue with his research — that was the bottom line. His goal had not changed. The experiments with Jayce would have to continue.

Tsaheylu with another person frightened him. It had taken less than ten seconds to be laid completely bare — to reveal the ugly, shriveled parts of himself that never saw the light. He would have to endure this, even if he was afraid.

He took a little comfort in the fact that the bond was a two-way street. He would see all of the unturned stones in Jayce’s mind. If he must bare himself, then Jayce must do the same.

Viktor felt more conflicted about Jayce’s romantic feelings. He wished they could go back to their simple, uncomplicated partnership. But they could not ignore their feelings for each other forever. It was impossible to avoid. Each time they underwent tsaheylu, they would be confronted with the truth, no matter how hard they tried to bury it. And Viktor was tired of fighting it — so, so tired.

Therefore, the final, unanswered question was: What did he want to do about Jayce?

Delaying his decision, Viktor donned his rebreather mask and took his cane in hand. He stepped outside and retrieved his recording device from the transport, ignoring the Avatars inside.

Back in his lab, he replayed the recording of the experiment. He recalled most of it — but then he arrived at the part after he had run away. Viktor trembled with guilt as he listened to the pain in Jayce’s voice. Jayce had desperately called for him, not knowing what Viktor had done.

He listened to Jayce speak to Sky and realize the truth. Viktor flinched, expecting anger and harsh words. But as he listened, he heard no such thing. Instead, he listened in bewilderment when Jayce said that his love was beautiful. That his love felt like coming home.

“Jayce,” Viktor whispered, days too late. His hand twitched, as if he could reach through the recording to the Jayce of that moment. Deep inside, he wished he could have stayed.

The recording device emitted a faint shuffling noise, then silence. Jayce was probably moving Viktor’s Avatar into the transport. Then, Viktor heard the sound of Jayce picking up the device.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, V,” Jayce said. The recording ended.

Viktor’s breath hitched. He sat there, alone in his lab, gently tracing the divots of the recording device in his hand. He eventually came to a decision.

He didn’t have to wait long. Three days was typically the limit Jayce could patiently wait for anything.

Viktor heard knocking on the outer door. Hesitant, but firm knocks.

“Viktor, I know you’re there. Please — just hear me out. I’m really sorry about what happened. I invaded your privacy. If you want to pretend like it never happened and don’t want to work together anymore, I’ll honor that. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I know your work is your dream, and I don’t —”

Viktor pushed a button and opened the outer door. Jayce stood there, breathing heavily. His hair was a mess, and his stubble was growing in. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well. He had obviously walked all the way here instead of taking a transport, the silly man.

“Come in, Jayce,” Viktor said.

At the table, Jayce drank his (caffeinated) coffee in silence. Every so often, his eyes darted to Viktor, then darted away guiltily.

Viktor set his mug down. Jayce startled at the sound.

Viktor took a deep breath and began slowly. “Jayce. I’m sorry I ran away —”

“No, it’s okay,” Jayce was quick to say, “It was a lot to handle. I get it.”

“It was. But I hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” Jayce insisted. His fingers tightened on his cup.

Viktor swallowed. He slowly reached across the table and placed his hand over Jayce’s. The other man held his breath.

“I don’t think it’s fine. Both things can be true. It was too much for me, and I hurt you,” Viktor assured him.

“Okay,” Jayce said quietly. He looked down at their hands.

“And I want to continue our research.”

Jayce lifted his head in surprise. “You do? But all of the other experiments require tsaheylu.”

“My goal is to finish my research. I’m willing to do anything it takes,” Viktor replied firmly.

Jayce hesitated. “Can I say something first? I don’t — I don’t know if you want to hear it.”

“Go ahead.”

Jayce tightened his hand in Viktor’s. “It hurt to see what you think of yourself. I didn’t agree with any of it. I think you’re worth knowing, Viktor. You saw for yourself how I feel about you. You’re brilliant. You’re kind, clever, and passionate. And you don’t need to be afraid of the things you need.”

Jayce blushed and cut himself off. “Sorry. I think I said too much.”

Viktor swallowed and took his hand back. He was afraid of this the most: the reassurances. “That’s okay. I appreciate it. Thank you for saying it.”

“But you don’t believe me.” Jayce’s now-empty hand clenched into a fist.

“I’ve lived with myself for a long time. I’ve made my peace with it.”

Jayce frowned. “Viktor.”

“Jayce. It’s okay. Thank you for being my partner. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Viktor tried to give Jayce his most reassuring smile. He didn’t look convinced.

Jayce sighed and stood up to leave. Viktor went to see him out. At the door, Jayce turned around and hesitated.

“Can I —” Jayce stepped forward and, when he didn’t meet any resistance, drew Viktor into a hug. He was warm and soft.

Viktor closed his eyes and allowed his head to rest on Jayce’s shoulder, setting his cane to the side. He was so tired, and Jayce was so warm. He could feel Jayce’s arms across his back and above his waist. Viktor reached out, grasping at Jayce’s broad back. Jayce tightened his arms around Viktor, squeezing him slightly.

“V?” Jayce asked, breath tickling Viktor’s ear. Viktor shivered and pressed closer until they were completely flush against each other. He shifted his weight onto his good leg.

With each deep breath Jayce took, Viktor could feel the subtle expansion of his chest. It felt good. It felt safe.

“Viktor?” Jayce asked again, concern edging into his voice. He pulled away slightly. Viktor found himself unable to face him. He couldn’t look into his eyes, especially at this distance. He turned his head down and away from Jayce.

“Viktor, what’s wrong?” Fingers brushed his chin. Viktor shook his head. He was afraid to speak. He didn’t know what would happen when he opened his mouth. His breathing quickened. He had no idea what he was doing.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jayce whispered. His touch turned into a caress. The back of his fingers brushed Viktor’s cheek. His other hand cradled the back of Viktor’s head.

Viktor’s breath hitched as he felt Jayce press a light kiss to the side of his face. His hand fisted the back of Jayce’s shirt. His emotions were stuck in his throat, but he finally gathered up the courage look up and meet the other man’s eyes.

Jayce’s eyes contained nothing but care and concern.

Viktor wanted —

He wanted —

The distance between their lips seemed insurmountable. It might as well have been asymptote — the limit approaching infinity, the lines close but never meeting. The gap from strangers to friends was simple, like breathing, but the gap from friends to more was insurmountable. This penultimate step frightened Viktor, squeezed his chest till he couldn’t move or breathe.

Jayce looked down and traced his thumb over Viktor’s bottom lip. Viktor gasped and, without thinking, moved his tongue forward to wet the tip of his thumb. Jayce’s eyes darkened.

Viktor couldn’t take it anymore — he really couldn’t take it anymore. If he stayed still any longer, he would disintegrate in place. They leaned forward at the same time.

The place their lips met was skewed and uncoordinated, but to Viktor it was everything. The sensitive skin of his lips felt the moist, slightly raised skin of Jayce’s lips, and he wanted more. Their lips met again, more coordinated this time, their noses brushing together.

Viktor had forgotten how pleasing this simple act could be; now that he had it, he couldn’t get enough of it. His free hand framed Jayce’s jaw as they separated, then came together again. He lost awareness of anything other than the place where their mouths pressed together. He tried to part his lips to say something, anything — but Jayce mistook this as a signal and brushed his tongue against Viktor’s. Viktor trembled. Their tongues slid against each other as their kisses deepened, muffled moans and heavy breaths exchanged between the two of them.

After a while, Viktor found it difficult to keep standing with most of his weight on one leg. His good leg started to ache. Entangled with Jayce, he had no way to rearrange himself. He wobbled slightly off-balance.

Jayce, attentive as he was, noticed immediately. Viktor thought he would step back and allow him to retrieve his cane. Instead, Jayce bent slightly and, in a single fluid movement, lifted him by the waist. Viktor yelped and wrapped his arms and legs around Jayce, who shifted to completely support Viktor’s entire weight.

“Jayce!” Viktor huffed, “Don’t — ah.” He was distracted by wet kisses against his sensitive neck. He shivered and arched against Jayce, becoming aware that his cunt, hidden behind two layers of clothes, was pressed against the solid line of Jayce’s cock in his pants.

Viktor whined, and his hand moved upward to tug on Jayce’s hair. “Bed, now.”

Jayce chuckled, but he did as he was told. Every step he took, Viktor could feel himself grinding against Jayce.

Jayce carefully lowered him onto the bed. He smiled, brushing the hair out of Viktor’s face, crawling over Viktor to straddle him, leaning down for another kiss.

“Did you have anything in mind?” Jayce murmured against his lips. Viktor started to shake his head, then stopped. He went to undo the button on Jayce’s pants, but his shaking hands made it difficult.

Jayce’s hands covered his, interrupting his fumbling. “Viktor, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. Take a deep breath with me.” Moving one of Viktor’s hands to his chest, Jayce slowly inhaled, then exhaled, until Viktor mimicked him. In, and out. In, and out, until Viktor’s hands were no longer shaking.

Jayce smiled and patted his hand. “Good. Now, where were we?” Ugh, he was adorable when he was insufferable. Together, they took off Jayce’s shirt and undid his pants.

Viktor pushed Jayce’s pants down and took out his hardening cock, savoring the hot, heavy weight of it in his hand. He stroked the velvety length and watched as a bead of pre-come stained the tip. He couldn’t resist — he moaned as he swiped his thumb across the head and brought his hand to his mouth, tasting it on his tongue. Salty flavor burst across his tastebuds.

Jayce groaned at the sight, making a few absent thrusts against Viktor’s pants. He reached for his waistband. “Can I —”

Viktor nodded, pulling up the hem of his own shirt. Jayce got off the bed to shimmy Viktor’s pants and underwear down his legs, then kicked off the rest of his own clothes. Equally naked, they froze and stared at each other, breathing heavily, neither making the next move. Viktor was suddenly struck with the knowledge of what they were about to do, the line they were about to cross.

Viktor didn’t care anymore. He wanted this. He wanted this very badly. Flushing pink all the way down to his chest, he bent his knees and spread his bare legs to reveal himself to Jayce, twitching at the feeling of being exposed to the open air. He pressed his hands over his face, embarrassed at his shameless display.

He heard the other man whimper, then jolted as felt Jayce’s thumbs pull on both sides of his cunt and spread him open, rubbing at the copious slick clinging to his folds. He swore he could feel Jayce’s eyes like a physical caress.

Jayce groaned. “V, I can’t — you’re so pretty, can I —”

“Yes,” Viktor gasped, “Jayce —” Something warm and wet enveloped him. He cried out and ripped his hands away from his face to see Jayce between his legs, eyes closed as he stuck out his tongue to blaze a trail of wet heat from the bottom of Viktor’s folds up to the top of his cock. Jayce closed his lips around his cock and sucked, tongue swiping directly across the nub.

Viktor cried out, his back arching, one of his legs kicking out, accidentally catching Jayce in the shoulder. Jayce grunted, curling his hands over Viktor’s thighs to lift them over his shoulder and rest across his broad back. He braced his arm against Viktor’s hip on his weaker side, supporting him.

“You’re so sensitive,” Jayce whispered in wonder. Viktor could feel his hot breath against his core.

“Sorry. It’s — it’s been a while.” Viktor panted. It had been a long time, but he remembered being more composed during those interactions. Something about Jayce made him desperate and dizzy with want. He didn’t like it. It felt like weakness — like giving up.

Jayce’s eyes softened, and he turned his head to place a kiss on Viktor’s knee. “It’s okay,” he soothed, his broad palm rubbing warm circles into Viktor’s hip.

Viktor furrowed his brow. “I’m not fragile.”

Jayce shook his head. “You’re not. I just want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Can I?”

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat. Faced with such sincerity, he squirmed, trying to draw in on himself, arms curling protectively over his chest. He bit the inside of his lip, considering it.

“You’ll do what I want?” he asked quietly, unable to meet Jayce’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Viktor turned his head and pressed the side of his face into the pillow. He shivered in anticipation, aware of every noise that accompanied the silence: the hum of machines in the background, the faint clatter of the wind blowing against the lab, Jayce’s deep breaths as he waited for an answer.

Viktor gave a short nod. Jayce gave a sigh of relief and leaned forward to place a kiss on his cock. Viktor stifled a whimper.

“Thank you,” Jayce breathed. “Do you want my mouth? Or my cock?”

At the latter, Viktor's leg twitched, rubbing his heel against Jayce’s back.

“My cock, then,” Jayce grinned.

Viktor glared balefully at him. “Stretch me first. You're big.”

Jayce hummed in acknowledgement and stroked the pad of his finger over Viktor’s opening, then slowly pressed it in all the way to the knuckle. Viktor made a small sound in this throat and clenched around it, but it wasn’t enough. Jayce seemed to sense his impatience, immediately pulling out and pushing back in with two fingers. Viktor shivered as he started to feel the stretch. He had underestimated how large Jayce’s fingers would feel inside of him. Jayce swirled his tongue around Viktor’s cock, distracting him, pressing his fingers against his walls and scissoring them until Viktor had relaxed and was tipping his hips up for more.

When Jayce added a third finger, the stretch became deliciously good, just on the edge of too much. Viktor’s pussy trembled around Jayce’s fingers as he struggled to breathe through it. God, they were so thick. He loved it. He loved it so much.

“It’s perfect.” Viktor breathed. He clenched, feeling the solid weight inside him, sighing in satisfaction. Jayce’s eyes lit up. He committed to his task with renewed gusto, licking around his fingers, smoothly thrusting them in and out of his hole, slightly crooking his fingers until he finally found the spot that made Viktor flutter around him and cry out.

A fine tremble ran through Viktor’s limbs as Jayce massaged the pads of his fingers over that one spot, a ruined sound escaping his throat as Jayce also moved up to suckle at his cock, mouthing wetly over it, never stopping the motion of his fingers. On instinct, his hand reached out and tangled his fingers in Jayce’s dark hair as he tried to hang on for dear life, choked moans escaping his mouth. His hips couldn’t decide whether or not to shy away or press into it.

“Hah — Jayce, enough,” Viktor panted, “Inside. I want — inside.”

With another wet and dirty kiss against his cock, Jayce pulled away, his fingers stilling inside of Viktor. He tilted his head to rest against Viktor’s thigh and looked up at him, mouth red and swollen from his prior ministrations.

“You sure you don’t want to come first?” Jayce croaked, turning his head to latch his mouth against his skin and suckle a bruise into Viktor’s thigh. He couldn’t seem to keep his mouth off of him for even a second, savoring him like a fine meal.

“Not until you’re inside.” Viktor breathed.

Jayce licked a stripe up his thigh as he hummed, the way he sounded when he was deep in thought. “How do you like it?”

Viktor didn’t want to tell him how he liked it, but watching Jayce alternate between wet kisses and slow licks to the crease between his hip and thigh was slowly driving him insane. Insane because Jayce wasn’t currently fucking him, and insane because Jayce looked like he was having the time of his life just from licking up the sweat from Viktor’s pale skin. He felt rather like an ice cream treat, and he was going to melt into a puddle before Jayce was finished with him. He finally snapped when Jayce rubbed his nose into his sweaty thatch of hair, sniffed him, and groaned, oh my god, Viktor was going to —

“I imagined you pressing your weight onto me, and holding me down,” Viktor blurted in a rush. Jayce thankfully stopped and looked up.

“You imagined me?” he grinned sloppily, looking almost drunk with pleasure from those words alone.

“Get up here,” Viktor demanded, tired of talking to him from a distance.

“You’re so bossy,” Jayce said fondly. He gently untangled Viktor’s legs and carefully set them down before sliding up his body, smiling when he came face-to-face with Viktor.

“Hi,” Jayce said sweetly, using his clean hand to brush the loose strands of hair from Viktor’s face. A bead of sweat rolled from Jayce’s temple down to his neck, his bronze skin flushed prettily. Viktor was struck with the sudden clawing urge to consume Jayce. He shivered and ignored the feeling.

“Hello,” he replied softly, tilting his chin up. Jayce understood his meaning and leaned down to press their lips together. His cock nudged against Viktor’s hip, groaning as he slowly rutted against him while they kissed, tongues lazily exploring each other’s mouths. Viktor groaned deep in his throat, saliva escaping and dripping down the corner of his lips. They separated with a wet schlk to stare into each other’s eyes, communicating something that Viktor didn’t dare voice out loud.

The next part happened simultaneously and without words. They were partners, after all, who worked well together inside and outside the lab. Jayce shifted into the cradle of Viktor’s legs, silently taking the extra pillow Viktor passed him and placing it below Viktor’s weaker leg to support it. He lowered himself increment by increment, until he was fully lying on top of Viktor’s body, chest to chest. When Viktor nodded, he fully relaxed, stretching his arms around either side of Viktor’s head. Viktor sighed as Jayce pressed him into the bed, groaning when he realized he could barely move. He was entirely at the other man’s mercy. His chest was slightly compressed, limiting the amount of air he could take in at one time, but he wasn’t worried. A sense of peace washed over him. Safe, it said to the animal part of his brain. Safe.

Jayce mouthed at Viktor’s neck, shifting his hips to rub the head of his cock over Viktor’s entrance. Viktor made a noise as he tried to wiggle, but was stopped by the heavy weight pressing into him. He could feel Jayce smiling against his neck.

“It’s okay, I have you,” Jayce whispered into his ear. Viktor whined and nodded numbly, letting his legs fall open on either side of Jayce. His mind was turning into mush, his higher brain functions absent, only able to focus on Jayce’s presence around him, caging him in.

The head of Jayce’s cock finally caught against his entrance, and Viktor’s breathing hitched as it finally nudged its way into him, spreading him open. Jayce tightened the muscles on his abdomen and slowly pushed deeper, forcing Viktor’s pussy to accommodate him. The drag felt gorgeous on Viktor’s insides — stretching him to his limit, just shy of too much. Viktor keened quietly, breath coming out in short huffs. His head tilted backwards onto his pillow, and he trembled as he stared up at his softly glowing stars.

Jayce slowly worked, rocking his hips a little to facilitate the stretch, until he bottomed out inside of Viktor.

“Ah - You okay?” Jayce asked, sweat beading on his brow, lifting some of his weight off of Viktor’s body. Viktor took a deep breath and greedily rolled his hips to feel the way his hole clung to Jayce’s cock. His pussy was stretched wide, soaking wet and quivering, struggling to contain his cock, which pressed against his most sensitive places.

“Full,” Viktor sighed shakily, wholly satisfied. He breathed out and fell into another level of consciousness, where he drifted. A few tears formed in his eyes and dripped down his temples. Jayce’s thumbs caught them before they reached his sweat-soaked hairline.

“Viktor, are you okay?” Jayce asked, concern in his voice, trembling from the effort of keeping still.

Viktor reached his hand up to cover one of Jayce’s, his other hand lazily tracing lines down Jayce’s back. “Mhm.”

“Can I —”

Viktor nodded, watching him with half-lidded eyes. He could feel every place they pressed together: chest to chest, skin to skin. All of his senses were consumed by Jayce, and only Jayce.

Jayce braced his arms against the bed and pressed his body back onto Viktor, burying his head in the space between Viktor’s neck and shoulder. He pulled out halfway, then ground his cock back into Viktor’s cunt.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” Jayce gasped. He intertwined their fingers, palm against palm, so that Viktor’s hands were held above his head. “I don't — hah — think I can hold back,” he whined, his body trembling. Viktor squeezed their hands together, his cunt fluttering in anticipation. “Tell me if it’s — too much, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, Jayce adjusted his position to take some of his weight on his knees, shifting his cock inside of Viktor. They both groaned. Jayce huffed a breath and started moving his hips in a smooth, practiced motion. He pulled halfway out, thrust back in, then pulled out again, quickly establishing a rhythm. The close movement let Viktor’s cock grind against his groin every so often, sending sparks of pleasure every time it did. Once Jayce started, he didn’t stop for a single moment, moving back and forth like a perpetual machine.

Viktor made a low keening noise at the first few thrusts. When the pace continued steadily and relentlessly, he broke off into a sob and instinctively tried to squirm away, but couldn’t, legs spasming, toes curling. His poor pussy couldn’t get a break, subject to the repeated friction of Jayce’s cock moving in and out of him. His walls kept clenching uncontrollably, unable to make sense of the rhythm. He struggled fruitlessly.

“Viktor?”

Then, all at once, Viktor reached a breaking point, like a button had been pressed. His body shivered violently all over, then relaxed. His eyes fluttered and rolled back into his head, arms going limp, legs falling to either side of Jayce’s body. His pussy became obedient, syncing perfectly, the sensitive skin around his entrance clinging to Jayce when he pulled out, then his entire cunt clenching around Jayce to welcome him back in.

Jayce noticed the change and cooed in satisfaction, whispering into Viktor’s neck, “Gonna take care of you, V. Thank you — thank you for letting me. I love — ah.” He broke off and busied his mouth sucking bruises into Viktor’s skin, their sweaty chests sliding against each other.

Viktor shuddered. He could feel himself producing more slick to ease Jayce’s path, the overflow of liquid dripping down his perineum and dampening the sheets. Wet squelching noises echoed in the room, accompanying Viktor’s continuously keening moans as he lay there and took it. With Jayce's weight on top of him, it was getting harder to take in enough air. He became dizzy and lightheaded, morphing the pleasure into one long, continuous string that filled his body and assaulted his senses.

Jayce did something that ground his cock directly against Viktor's sweet spot on every thrust. Viktor sobbed and threw his head back, tendons straining in his neck. His obedient cunt, slaved to Jayce’s cock, tightened and shivered in delight.

Overwhelmed tears fell from his eyes. It was so good, so so good. Jayce was so good to him. He felt so cherished, so loved in the palm of Jayce’s hand. Warmth spread from his belly to his chest, and through the rest of his body, all the way down to his fingers and toes. He didn’t know it could feel like this. He was losing his mind.

Jayce groaned. “You gonna — ah, shit — come, V?”

Viktor gurgled, struggling to swallow the excess saliva that had gathered in his mouth, choking slightly. Jayce lifted his head from Viktor’s shoulder in alarm and inhaled sharply when he saw Viktor’s face: his dazed expression, lashes wet with tears, eyes glazed over and unfocused, lips trembling, red and wet with spit.

Viktor knew that he looked absolutely ruined. He made a tiny, pathetic noise and turned his head away. Jayce immediately slowed his pace to a crawl and untangled their hands to loosely cradle Viktor’s cheeks instead.

“Viktor, look at me,” Jayce whispered. Viktor shook his head, whining in protest at the change in rhythm. “Let me see you?”

Viktor squeezed his eyes shut. A tear dislodged from his lashes and and began to drip down the side of his face. He wanted to hide away, but he had nowhere to go, speared helplessly on Jayce’s cock, pinned down like a dead moth to poster board.

“Please, V?” God, Jayce sounded so sincere. He had already seen what Viktor tried to hide, and hadn’t flinched away, not even once.

Viktor opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to meet Jayce’s gaze. His breath caught in his throat. Jayce’s eyes were soft and welcoming, a brilliant hazel that shone brown in the dying light of the day. They curved in joy, as did the rest of his face.

“There you are,” Jayce smiled softly down at him, thumb wiping away his tears. “I loved it when you let go just now. Knowing that I was the one who did that, it drives me crazy.”

Viktor shivered as he looked into Jayce’s eyes. “Really?”

Jayce nodded. “Really.” His smile turned sheepish, “I almost came when I saw your face, actually.” His hips gave a hard thrust, and Viktor groaned. Jayce's cock had not flagged in the least.

“I didn’t know crying did it for you,” Viktor replied casually.

Jayce spluttered. “Wait no, that’s not — it’s just — you’re always so strong. That’s what I admire the most about you. And I love it when you let me see your softer parts too. That you trusted me enough to let me see.” His hips had picked up speed as he spoke. “Can we — can we talk about this later? I really, really need to come.”

Something soft settled in Viktor’s chest, and burned warm and steady. “You’re ridiculous,” he huffed. It came out more fondly than he intended. Jayce beamed at him. If he were in his Avatar form, his tail would be wagging. Viktor smiled at the thought. It was cute.

“Okay,” Jayce said to himself. They both made a noise when he pulled out. Jayce lifted his upper body and kneeled, bracing himself on his hands so he could hover over Viktor and look down at his face. He reached down and pressed himself against Viktor’s entrance, sliding back into him.

Viktor sighed. “Finally.”

“It’s been ten seconds!”

“Too long.” They grinned at each other, then laughed outright, giggling over each other. Viktor thumped his foot against Jayce’s back, telling him to hurry up.

It felt more intense this time, when they came together. Hand buried in the hair on the back of Jayce’s neck, Viktor looked up at him, drinking in every expression of pleasure that crossed his face. Jayce drove into him, the smack of their skin audible in the room. Viktor was embarrassed when he started to lose control and pleasure flashed across his face, but Jayce seemed to sense it. He kept whispering how beautiful Viktor was, how lucky he felt, and how crazy Viktor made him, until Viktor was whining on every exhale. They kissed wetly, groaning into each other’s mouths, a line of spit connecting them when they separated. Jayce looked almost drunk, his eyes lidded and heavy, his mouth open and panting.

Viktor gave a muffled whine when he felt Jayce’s warm thumb brush against his cock. His pussy happily clenched down every time Jayce stroked over him, playing favorites, the little brat.

Viktor shook his head and and reached down to grab Jayce’s wrist and pull it up, settling it on his throat instead. He nodded at Jayce’s hesitant look, and Jayce began to press down. He stopped when Viktor nodded again, keeping the pressure steady on his neck. Viktor breathed as deeply as he could to feel his constricted airway, head tilting back in pleasure. His hand moved to curl around Jayce’s wrist.

Viktor quickly became lightheaded and dizzy again, lashes fluttering. His back arched as his other hand clawed at the sheets, his brain settling back into that mindless place. Yes, he felt helpless and owned again, Jayce’s hand on his throat, his pussy surrendering to his cock, squeezing sweetly down, unwilling to let him go. His entire body tensed and shivered all over, tightening around him.

Above him, Jayce looked down at him with awe, his eyes wide. Viktor shifted his hips until every thrust pressed against his sweet spot, a thin mewling sound echoing up through his throat every time Jayce drove in. He knew he was drooling, unable to swallow properly with a hand around his throat.

“Let go, V. I want to see you lose it,” Jayce rasped. A wild look entered his eyes. “You’re mine. I’ll take care of you. ”

Viktor vocalized a low cry. His cunt gushed more liquid, swollen and oversensitive. It belonged to Jayce now. In truth, he had been teetering on the edge for ages now, but his pussy refused to listen to him and tip over that final hurdle. It was just a sleeve for Jayce’s cock now, and would only obey him.

“Tell me,” Viktor wheezed. Jayce loosened his hold briefly so he could speak properly, but Viktor whined and pressed his hand down on Jayce’s wrist until Jayce tightened his grip again. “Tell me to — hah, mmnnn — come.”

“What?” Jayce looked surprised. His hips stuttered.

Viktor shuddered desperately, tilting his hips up to be a better receptacle for Jayce’s cock, “Please! I’ll be — good!” Tears formed in his eyes as he pleaded, staring at Jayce.

Jayce seemed to have caught onto Viktor’s game, his eyes darkening. He tensed his lower back and leg muscles, increasing the force of his thrusts. Viktor’s pussy welcomed him in with little shudders, drooling all over his cock to please him.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Jayce demanded. Viktor nodded furiously. Jayce looked down at his neck and chest, deep in thought.

Suddenly, he tightened his grip on Viktor’s neck and hauled him up by his neck. Viktor nearly choked in surprise. Jayce’s pressed his other arm against Viktor’s lower back to support him, settling him in his lap, then pushed down to drop Viktor’s entire weight onto his cock, spearing him open. Viktor shrieked, his body entirely held in place by Jayce’s cock, his legs splaying uselessly. His overwhelmed pussy rejoiced and bore down, practically melting around Jayce’s shape.

Jayce kept his hold on Viktor’s neck and leaned forward until his lips touched Viktor’s earlobe. Viktor froze. Even his pussy stilled, ready to obey.

“Come for me,” Jayce whispered into his ear. Viktor’s eyes widened, a deep shiver spreading through his body.

It was so good. It was perfect.

The heat in his lower belly crested as Jayce placed a hand on his waist, harshly grinding his cock into him. Viktor finally, finally tipped over the edge, shaking, speared helplessly on Jayce’s cock. He choked and wailed loudly as his pussy pulsed uncontrollably, gushing fluid, molding itself over and over to the delicious shape inside him, ruining him for good. Jayce let go of his neck. Gasping waves of physical sensation washed over his nerves as Viktor simultaneously tried to take in lungfuls of air. His back arched as he tried to shudder through it, then cried out and twisted when it wouldn’t stop. His eyes fluttered, synapses misfiring, every muscle tensed in his body.

He was left breathless in the wake of it, succumbing wholly to the sensation consuming his body. He was distantly aware of Jayce completely burying himself deep inside of him, spilling a burst of warmth directly into his core, and it only made things worse — his pussy loved being filled and claimed too much. He could do nothing but ride out his own end, shattered beyond belief. He felt arms wrap around his body and press him against something solid, the only thing tethering him to reality, keeping him from floating away and losing his mind.

When the overwhelming peak finally started to calm and die down, his eyes fluttered as he luxuriated in the euphoria that was left in its wake — the soothing warmth inside of him, complete. Soft and sated, chest heaving, he fell boneless in strong arms, head limp against a muscular shoulder.

He felt unmoored, yes, and his back and leg were very sore, something he knew he would regret later, but he paid no mind to it — he was so safe, so secure in the arms that grounded him and held him to their chest. A hand stroked his hair, and he leaned into it, practically purring. He felt rather than heard Jayce’s chuckle reverberating inside his chest.

Jayce carefully shifted them into a more comfortable position, easing the soreness in Viktor’s back. Viktor sat in his lap, leaning against Jayce with his legs stretched out. They embraced each other, chest to chest, skin to skin — unwilling to part even an inch, still coming down from their high.

“Viktor?” Jayce whispered, “Are you there?”

Viktor hummed an affirmative, snuggling closer. Jayce’s low laugh lit something warm inside his chest.

“That was. A lot. Did I do good?” Jayce asked tentatively.

Viktor giggled, high on endorphins. “The best.” Jayce had followed him without hesitation. He was wonderful.

“I wish you could see what I see right now, V. How amazing you are and how much I adore you. That’s the purpose of our research.”

“Too relive the best sex they’ve ever had?” Viktor let out a tired chuckle. An interesting business proposition. They could make millions off of reliving sexual encounters alone.

“Okay, yes —” Jayce sounded flustered. “But — actually, wait.”

That meant his partner just had an epiphany. Viktor perked up minutely. “What?”

“I just had an idea. Couldn’t you interact with memories in different ways?”

“Different ways?”

“Yeah. On one level, we could rewatch memories like they were movies. On another level, we could directly interact with people or objects in the memory,” Jayce explained. He yawned. “That’s all I have.”

“Wait, Jayce.” Viktor ran it through his head. “That’s — that's brilliant,” Viktor said as he finally lifted his head and looked at Jayce. His mind was back in his body.

Jayce blinked at him. “What?”

“Seeing memories at different levels of immersion, different Neural Links — that’s exactly the difference between Na’vi connecting to other Na’vi, and Na’vi connecting to the planet,” Viktor explained. He looked around them and pointed to his bedside table. “Pass me the pen and paper.”

Jayce sighed fondly and handed them over. Viktor leaned back, using Jayce’s shoulder and chest as a desk to start scribbling his notes.

Jayce grumbled sleepily. “How are you functional? I feel like melted ice cream.”

“Breakthroughs are being made.”

“Shouldn’t we move to the table —”

“No,” Viktor insisted, “No moving.” He kept scribbling for several minutes. Jayce waited patiently, tracing his hands up Viktor’s sides and sneaking in kisses wherever he could reach, laughing when Viktor scolded him for moving.

“There, I’ve written it all down. The NeuralCore has all the data we collected. It should be ready to link. Let’s go.” Viktor made to get up.

“Woah, woah, woah — hold on.” Jayce’s hands tugged him back down. Viktor squirmed. “I love your enthusiasm. I always do. But we just had great sex. Great freaky sex. We’re exhausted. We should eat a full meal, get a good night’s sleep, then link tomorrow.”

Viktor sighed, sounding heavily put-on. “Fine. We’ll wait until tomorrow. But just so you know, progress waits for no man.”

Jayce grinned. Their lips met again in a slow kiss, breathing each other in. Viktor drew closer to him, but paused when he felt something nudge against his thigh.

They both looked down.

“See? You're functional, too,” Viktor said pointedly.

Jayce snorted. “Okay,” he amended, “Round two point five, eat, sleep, then link?”

Viktor nodded solemnly. “Agreed.”

The next day, as fresh and ready as a spring morning (with aching limbs and sore backsides), Viktor and Jayce linked to their Avatars and took the NeuralCore outside.

“Explain your theory to me,” Jayce said as they set up their experiment.

Viktor took a moment to think. “My theory posits that there are different levels indicating how much we can interact with a memory. I’ve taken to calling them Neural Levels.”

Jayce chuckled. “You like ‘Neural’ a lot. NeuralCore, Neural Level…” he teased.

Viktor huffed and ignored him. “Neural Level 1 is regular tsaheylu — uncontrolled and involuntary impressions. Neural Level 2 involves viewing a memory. Neural Level 3 is being able to interact with a memory — speaking to people in the memory, for example.”

“Do you think we can reach Neural Level 3?”

Viktor hummed. “Perhaps, though being able to view objective memories is already an accomplishment.”

Jayce nodded. He stepped back and looked over their setup. “Well, here goes. I hope our brains don’t melt.”

“Do you want to back out?”

Jayce grinned. “Never.”

Alright, then. “Test log tee-two-dash-zero-one,” Viktor said into his recording device, “First experiment with the NeuralCore. Our objective is to enter a specific memory and determine the level of interactivity. Session begins.”

He looked at Jayce. “What memory did you choose?”

Jayce cleared his throat. “When I won the Young Innovator’s Competition, when I was a kid,” he answered.

Despite their casual tone, Viktor was nervous. Thinking about their first tsaheylu made his chest tighten. It had felt raw and uncontrolled. He hoped today’s experiment would be better, eyeing the NeuralCore warily. It sat between them: an iridescent, ever-changing sphere in a glass box.

“Concentrate on the memory in your mind, then make the connection,” he instructed Jayce.

Jayce took the end of his queue in hand and held it to the surface of the box. The tendrils glowed and attached to the glass. Inside the container, a spike emerged from the Core and met the glowing tendrils. Jayce’s pupils dilated. His eyes closed, and he slumped to the side.

Viktor was at his side in seconds. “Jayce? Jayce!” His heart beat rapidly in his chest.

Jayce stirred slightly, his eyes still closed. “It’s okay. I can still hear you. But I can see —” he paused, then a smile spread across his face. “I can see it.”

“The memory?”

“Yes. Go ahead and try.”

Taking a deep breath, Viktor took his own queue in hand and pressed it against the NeuralCore. He closed his eyes, then:

He’s standing in an auditorium with high ceilings, a good-sized stage, and many seats, half-filled with people. A banner above the stage proclaims “Young Innovators Competition” in thick, blocky letters. So far, so good, Viktor thinks. He’s inside Jayce’s memory.

Viktor takes a step forward, then stops and looks down at his leg. He’s still human, but his leg is perfect and painless. He rests his full weight on it, testing its strength. Busy marveling at his leg, he doesn’t notice someone walk right into him. He stumbles in surprise as they simply phase through him, as if he were a ghost.

“Viktor!” Jayce calls. Viktor looks around and spots him standing in front of the stage. He smiles as Viktor approaches.

“That’s me, and my parents.” Jayce points to three people in the second row. Seated are a man that strongly resembles Jayce, a twinkle in his eye; a kind-looking woman, her hair pulled back in a low bun; and a child Viktor immediately identifies as a young Jayce. The same dark hair, the same wondrous look in his eyes, though this child looks more nervous than his adult counterpart. He’s practically vibrating in his seat, staring expectantly at the stage.

Jayce isn’t looking at his younger self; he’s looking at his father. A guilty look comes over his features. “I can’t believe it. I forgot what he looked like.” His shoulders sag.

Viktor places a comforting hand on his back. “Now you do.”

“Thanks, V.” Jayce gives him a tentative smile, then shakes his head and clears his throat. “We should get back to work.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a moment?”

“I’m sure. After all, I can come back whenever I want, thanks to you,” Jayce assures him. He takes a step back and surveys the entire auditorium. “Viktor, this is exactly what you described. Neural Level 2, viewing a memory without bias or distortions. I think we’ve done it.”

Had he finally done it? His life’s work? “I mean, the memory isn’t interactable, but —” Viktor’s voice shakes. Emotions build in his chest and throat, choking him. “This is — this is wonderful,” he manages to say.

Jayce pulls Viktor into a warm hug. “I’m so proud of you, V,” he whispers into his hair. They pull apart and grin at each other, giddy with success. Their first disastrous tsaheylu pales in the wake of this accomplishment.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Viktor tells him truthfully. He’s grateful that he has his partner standing by his side. He’s grateful that Jayce stayed.

Jayce laughs and kisses him. “Not true,” he whispers against his lips, “You’re a genius, Viktor. You were already close to figuring it out.”

On stage, a man steps forward and announces the winners. “And last, and most important, our first place prize, the winner of this year’s annual Young Innovators Competition is — Jayce Talis! Where are you Jayce?”

Viktor watches a younger Jayce and his family erupt in excitement. The child ascends the stage to accept his award, beaming, full of hope for the future. He sees Jayce’s parents cheer for him, and sees how proud they are of their son. He sees the older Jayce watch them with a smile on his face, but also with a nostalgic sadness in his eyes.

The two of them proceed to test the limits of the memory, giddy with their success. They find that the memory doesn’t extend past the auditorium. Jayce finds that he can focus and pause the memory at will, but can’t change anything about the memory itself.

“I’m interested in the boundaries of the memory — what determines the size and shape of the area?” Viktor wonders.

Jayce stops to consider Viktor’s question. “Let me try to bring up a new one.” He takes one last long look at his parents, then closes his eyes, concentrating. The memory stutters and dissolves around them. Another begins to take form.

Viktor and Jayce stand in a small, but well-decorated apartment. Warm light seeps through the blinds and onto a comfortable-looking couch. On the couch sits Jayce’s mother, older and with gray streaks in her hair. Leaning into her, with his arms around her and his head buried in her shoulder, is Jayce.

The Jayce standing next to Viktor freezes.

There are tears visible on this Jayce’s cheeks. He is crying into his mother’s shoulder, chest heaving with sobs, trembling from head to toe. Jayce’s mother holds his large frame close, slowly rocking him back and forth, stroking his hair. Even though this Jayce is an adult, he looks small, like a child, crawling to his mother for comfort.

Viktor’s heart aches as he watches them. He’s never seen Jayce this upset. He feels guilty for seeing this, like some emotional voyeur, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the uncharacteristic display of emotion. He’s transfixed.

“No, no —” the Jayce next to him whimpers, and Viktor snaps out of his reverie. “Not this one, no —”

“It wasn’t your fault, my son,” Jayce’s mother says, holding her son close, “Sometimes, terrible things happen that are out of our control. But I am still so, so proud of you.”

The real Jayce screams, and the memory dissolves around them.

What’s left in its place is a void filled with galaxies and thousands of stars. It’s a beautiful view, but Viktor only has eyes for his partner. He’s on his knees, curled over himself, shoulders shaking.

“Jayce,” Viktor says softly. He kneels and holds him to his chest. Jayce sags against him.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce whispers, “I was trying to bring up a different memory, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the last time I saw her.”

“Was it then?”

Jayce nods. “I didn’t — I didn’t tell her I was leaving. She didn’t find out until after I was gone.” His voice is thin and defeated.

Viktor tightens his arms around Jayce. His heart hurts for him. “Have you spoken to her since you arrived?”

Jayce shakes his head and sighs. “It’s okay. I’ll get the courage to send her a message. Someday.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Viktor tells him, “I’m with you.” He wishes he had better words to give to Jayce. He’s more used to helping people by giving solutions, not comfort.

Jayce wipes his face on his arm and looks up, his eyes bright and wet with tears. He leans forward and pulls Viktor into a kiss. Viktor lets him. He can taste the salt from Jayce’s tears. When they pull away, Jayce tells him, “I want to try again.”

Viktor hesitates, the experiment far from his mind. Jayce is his only priority. “Are you sure? We can try another time. You don’t need to push yourself.”

Jake nods firmly. “I know where to go. I promised you.” He closes his eyes.

Another memory forms around them. This one is bright and open. Viktor immediately perceives sunlight, lots of it, spread out over an endless, grassy meadow. Then, a blue sky dotted with clouds, reflected in the surface of a pond. Grand mountains rise in the distance. They look unreal, like paper cutouts taped onto a blue background. A place Viktor has only seen in pictures. Places like this used to be everywhere. Humanity rotted them away and made the leftovers accessible only to the privileged. A world that is now open to him.

Viktor looks around them. He and Jayce are standing under a cove of shady trees. His breath catches in his throat. “Is this —”

Jayce smiles lightly. His eyes are still wet. “Yellowstone, yeah. Beaver Ponds Loop. My parents brought me here as a kid, and I came back on a solo trip during college. Told everyone I was doing some soul-searching.”

In the distance, Viktor spies the figure of a younger Jayce Talis sitting under a tree, backpack in his lap, book in his hand. Viktor can picture it, this younger Jayce. Bright and happy, but with a sadness curled up in his soul, looking out at the fields, hoping to see his mind’s reflection in fallen logs and still waters.

“Did you find it?” Viktor asks Jayce.

“Find what?”

“Your soul.”

Jayce huffs a small laugh. “Not at all — but it’s a nice view.” He looks wistfully towards the mountains, then walks out of the shade and into the sunlight. He lies down on the grass, patting the ground next to him.

Viktor joins him, idly wondering how much time passes outside for each second they spend in here. The grass is the perfect temperature, warmed by the sun. It feels slightly scratchy on initial contact with his skin, but the sensation stops entirely when the grass goes right through him. Interesting, he thinks to himself.

Jayce is silent as he lies next to him, but Viktor can sense the lingering tension. He takes Jayce’s hand in his.

“What are you thinking about?” Viktor asks him.

“Why I came to Pandora. I want to tell you, I just —” Jayce breaks off and shakes his head.

Viktor squeezes his hand, and doesn’t let go. “Take as much time as you need.” He lies back and waits. Looking up, his vision is almost entirely taken up by blue, dotted with white clouds and bordered by green grass. He observes the clouds passing by, and feels the wind waving the tall grass around them. He can hear birdsong in the trees. It’s calm here — peaceful.

Five minutes, ten minutes pass, before Jayce finally speaks.

“I killed someone. A girl,” he says at last. Viktor blinks. That’s... not what he expected Jayce to say.

“Come again?” he asks, keeping his voice steady. He doesn’t turn his head, keeping his gaze trained on the sky. He doesn’t think Jayce could stand being looked at right now, as much as Viktor wants to.

Jayce grips his hand tighter. “The bio-battery. There was an accident — an explosion,” he explains quietly, “One of my assistants liked to bring her kid around after school. She was really smart, interested in our work, asked a lot of questions.”

“What happened?”

Jayce’s hand shakes. His voice is hollow as he explains, “We were testing the battery. It was only supposed to be me and a few other people there, but she —” he pauses and takes a deep, shuddering breath, “She snuck in. She was curious, that’s all. We were behind shields just in case it — but she wasn’t — the blast was too big — it’s my fault — I —” Jayce chokes and begins to hyperventilate, struggling to breathe.

Viktor responds in an instant. He quickly turns and presses Jayce’s hand against his chest. “Jayce. Jayce. Breathe with me, it’s okay,” he soothes, looking into his wide eyes. Viktor takes a deep breath, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest. Jayce tries to follow his rhythm, even though he keeps gulping down air in his panic.

Eventually, after a harrowing minute, his breathing slowly starts to even out, until he’s breathing normally again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Jayce,” Viktor says, hoping it’s the right thing to say. He’s usually good with words, but he struggles to find them in this intimately personal moment.

Jayce shakes his head. “No you don’t — you don’t understand —”

“Then help me understand,” Viktor says.

“They covered it up. I worked for a university, but it was a company that funded me — they paid everyone off, pretended like it never happened. I wanted to stop the project, but they wouldn’t let me go. No one cared about the kid who died and her mom. And... I guess in the end, I didn’t either. I knew the battery would help so many people, so I finished it anyway. Then I came here.”

Jayce falls silent, eyes searching Viktor’s face for his reaction. He tenses like he expects the worst to come, like Viktor will hate him now that he knows the truth. It hurts Viktor’s heart. Carrying the weight has destroyed Jayce, and led him far away to Pandora.

Viktor struggles to think of the right words to say. “Jayce — you’re a kind man. I know you did what you thought was right. They put you in a difficult position. Your battery did help a lot of people, even on Pandora. I hope — I hope you can see the good you’ve done, and not just the mistakes you’ve made.”

Jayce swallows. “I know. But I can’t. She was just a kid.”

Viktor nods and tries to reassure Jayce, “It’s okay if it hurts.” Guilt settles onto him, heavy and smothering. Jayce was trying to run away from his invention, and Viktor — Viktor had threatened him into pretending he was still working on it.

“Thank you for telling me, Jayce. It doesn’t change anything between us and our partnership, or our relationship.” Viktor is resolute in this. He steadily holds Jayce’s gaze.

“What if I hurt someone else? What if I hurt you?” Jayce asks quietly.

“Pain is a natural part of life. We can do our best to stop it, but some of it always makes its way through,” Viktor tells him, “I know you, Jayce. You will take the righteous path.”

Jayce doesn’t look like he truly believes Viktor, but he nods and settles down anyway, exhaustion written all over his face. “Can we stay here for a little while longer?”

“Take as long as you need,” Viktor says.

They unlinked from the NeuralCore and ended the session in silence. Now back in the real world, Viktor’s mind was already back onto research, processing what they had discovered.

“Our experiment was a success. However, we were unable to actually interact with the memory itself. We only achieved Neural Level 2 — reliving unbiased memories,” Viktor summarized.

“And we need Neural Level 3 — actually interacting with the memories,” Jayce finished, looking all too grateful for the subject change, “I think I know how we can achieve that.”

“How?”

“The Well of Souls. It’s more powerful than the Tree of Voices, and it’s where the entire clan gathers to speak to Eywa herself.”

Viktor made a considering noise. “It would be extremely difficult to obtain access. Only the Na’vi are allowed there. ”

“Could Ekko help us again? Like he helped us with the Tree of Voices?”

“We can certainly find out.” Viktor answered.

Ekko looked at them for a long moment, then sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“The Omatikaya clan don’t allow outsiders there. Hell, I’ve never been there.”

“Because you don’t need to be,” Jayce argued, “But access to the Well of Souls is critical to our research. We can’t complete the NeuralCore without that data.”

“Please, Ekko. The Na’vi have seen our data gathering methods and know the process is completely benign. Surely there must be some way,” Viktor pleaded. He never pleaded.

Ekko thought deeply for a moment, then sighed, “I can try and talk to the Na’vi. But I think I know what will help your case.”

“Name it.” Jayce said.

“Two things. First, I need help with an ongoing issue with the Omatikaya Hometree. Their tree is slowly dying, and we can’t find the cause. Helping them would go a long way to building goodwill.”

“We can do that. What’s the second thing?” Viktor asked.

Ekko smiled. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell us anyway,” Jayce said.

He told them. They didn’t like it.

“You know,” Viktor called, “When I said I would do anything to complete my research, this is really not what I had in mind.”

“Well I mean, I’m really excited, but I’m also afraid of sort of dying?” Jayce yelled.

“Both of you focus on climbing and stop yapping,” Ekko yelled from the front, “My Ikran is below us and will catch you if you fall.”

“What if we fall at the same time?” Jayce asked.

“Then she’ll choose whoever looks tastier, I guess.” Ekko answered. He seemed unbothered by this increasingly likely scenario.

“Oh my god, I’m done for! She’s definitely going to choose Jayce!” Viktor commented wryly. Jayce hooted with laughter.

“Are you guys seriously flirting right now? In front of me? I’m this close to leaving you here.” Ekko rolled his eyes and gestured them onward.

They were climbing Iknimaya in their Avatars. Yes, that Iknimaya. The floating mountains, where the Ikran lived — the flying steeds of the Na’vi. When he was a kid, Viktor and every other child on Earth were fascinated with them, but Viktor had quickly grown out of his adventurous stage and turned himself to more scientific pursuits.

It seemed he was now going to fulfill that childhood dream, whether he liked it or not. Ekko had told them the Na’vi respected people who honored their way of life, and taming an Ikran went a long way toward that. Ekko himself was living proof of this.

Like most things in Viktor's life, it was much easier said than done. Other than the treacherous climb up to their nests, Ikrans tended to try and murder you before allowing you to fly them. There was a non-zero chance of failure. Viktor was used to worse odds, but those odds didn’t involve a scientist, unused to having two working legs, performing athletic feats and animal taming. Sue him if he was feeling a little cynical while standing on a floating rock.

“Okay, guys, we’re almost there!” Ekko called, “Just a little more —”

Suddenly, three Ikrans with riders swooped over their heads and dismounted ahead of them. Viktor groaned. This day just became a lot worse, he thought to himself. Jayce observed his reaction with confusion.

“Ekko’s friends,” Viktor explained disdainfully. He found them unrepentant jerks who interfered with his machines in the field. Now he would have to meet them in person. He loved that.

He watched as Ekko greeted them with brotherly camaraderie. Viktor also greeted them with the standard I see you, though a little stiffly.

“We wanted to cheer you guys on,” said the tallest one, who introduced himself as Tatsyetsì. “None of the humans have tried in a while. We missed our entertainment,” he grinned. Tatsyetsì seemed to be the only one out of the three of them who spoke English. Ekko and Viktor could speak Na’vi, but Jayce could not.

“What happened to the last humans who tried?” Jayce asked curiously.

One of his companions said something in Na’vi and made a gesture. Ekko and Viktor winced.

Viktor leaned over to Jayce. “Colloquially, that translates to: They fucking died.”

Jayced swallowed. “Great! Thanks for the, uh — thanks for the support.”

“You’re welcome! Don’t die.” Tatsyetsì answered. He and his friends mounted their Ikrans and took off into the air.

“They mean well. And technically, Silas and Joanne didn’t die. They just have to... wait for their new Avatars to mature.” Ekko said. Viktor kneaded at the space between his brows. He did not find that incredibly reassuring.

When they at last made it up to the Ikran, Ekko turned to them. “Who wants to go first?”

Viktor and Jayce looked at each other.

“Well, I guess it was my idea.” Jayce said casually. They turned to look at the mass of Ikran crowded on the cliff.

Ekko patted him on the back. “Remember. The Ikran will choose you —”

“By trying to kill me, right.” Jayce muttered. He shared a look with Viktor, and approached the mass of Ikran. Viktor watched with apprehension. While Jayce’s life was technically not in danger due to his Avatar form, it still felt an awfully a lot like mortal peril, and Avatars were hard to come by.

Jayce walked into the crowd of Ikran, looking each one in the eye. Most of them shrieked and moved away from him. He was two-thirds through the crowd when a blue-green Ikran caught sight of him and snarled.

“I think it’s that one. You got this, Jayce! Just like we practiced!” Ekko called. Viktor gritted his teeth and said nothing.

In front of them, Jayce took a deep breath and took out his Ikran-catcher, which was a weighted rope with a heavy stone a the end, swinging it in a circle. It made a whistling sound. He continued his eye contact with the Ikran, who started to circle him and snap its teeth. They seemed intertwined in a dance of their own, waiting to see who would make the next move.

The air around them was tense and chaotic. The other Ikran had backed away but were still around them, some watching the encounter, others minding their own business.

Viktor himself was coiled as tight as a string. He didn’t know which made him more anxious — watching Jayce, or the idea of doing it himself.

The Ikran kept lunging for Jayce, teeth poised to bite down, but Jayce was always a second quicker. He was quickly running out of room; the cliff’s edge fast approaching behind him. Viktor saw Jayce brace himself, crouching with one leg behind him.

The Ikran made one more lunge, and Jayce dodged out of the way to grab onto its neck, quickly looping the Ikran-catcher around the snout, sealing off its teeth.

“Nice, Jayce!” Viktor called, relieved that Jayce had completed the hardest step.

Jayce took advantage of his strong frame to jump onto the Ikran and stay connected, even though it was doing its best to throw him off, thrashing and twisting below him. He tightly wrapped his legs around the neck to free his hands, and held his own queue in one hand, trying to connect it to the Ikran’s queue.

Before he could make the connection, however, the Ikran had reached the edge of the cliff in its panic. It tumbled off with Jayce still hanging on. Viktor cried out in anguish. He was sure that Jayce was currently falling to his Avatar’s death, hundreds of meters below.

“Jayce!” Ekko and Viktor cried. They immediately ran toward the cliff to look over the edge. But before they could, something swooped over their heads.

It was Jayce! He had managed to connect with the Ikran during the free-fall, and now he was whooping with joy as the wings of the creature carried him on vaulted air. Viktor’s heart pounded. Jayce looked so free, so handsome in the wake of his accomplishment. He waved at Viktor, who smiled and waved back.

Now it was Viktor’s turn. Ekko had trained them well, running them through drills over and over again, but it was nothing compared to the real thing: a large moving creature with razor sharp teeth. His approach would have to be slightly different. He took the end of his queue and tied it to his wrist, keeping it inert and easily accessible. He moved through the crowd, searching for his own Ikran.

He didn’t have to wait long for a match. An Ikran, purple with yellow-black markings, spotted him and hissed. Yes, this was the one. Viktor hissed back, his own tail whipping the air behind him. He spun his Ikran-catcher in a circle, but he didn’t wait for the Ikran to make the first move. He aimed immediately for the Ikran’s head, missing by several inches. Damn.

Dodging out of the way, Viktor tried again. He focused solely on the feeling of the string in his hand and the target. This time, he aimed true, but the catcher failed to wrap around the Ikran’s snout. Viktor cursed and tried to dodge as the Ikran snapped its teeth towards him. He cried out as it grazed his shoulder, opening several gashes on his skin.

“Viktor!” He heard Ekko cry out. Viktor ignored him. He grit his teeth. Anything — he would do anything.

Viktor still had one more chance. He put all of his might into his last swing, and struck true again. This time, the catcher successfully wrapped around the Ikran’s snout. He didn’t wait to see if it had worked. He immediately lunged for the Ikran’s queue, taking advantage of its surprise. The Ikran’s wing snapped toward him, but he ignored it and shot his arm out, making the connection.

The Ikran froze where it was, studying Viktor curiously as tsaheylu was completed. He stared at it as their senses intertwined. She — it was a she. It didn’t feel the same as tsaheylu with Jayce. The bond was more primitive, focused on shared physical sensation and impressions of feeling.

Viktor grinned. “I have you.” he whispered. He broke out his reverie when he remembered the importance of the First Flight to seal the bond.

Go, he thought, as he carefully mounted the Ikran. She breathed steadying breaths through the holes on her neck and stretched out her wings, leaping toward the cliff edge. A moment of weightlessness, then her wings flapped powerfully and they were airborne.

The air and scenery rushed passed him, faster than he had ever experienced, with more maneuverability than he had thought possible. The Ikran responded well to every directional thought he made: up, down, slow down, bank left, bank right. He was exhilarated.

From on the ground, riding an Ikran had seemed interesting, but he didn’t know it could feel like this. It was neck-and-neck with his first experience linking with an Avatar — the absolute freedom, like you could go anywhere in the world without barriers. Viktor couldn’t imagine going back to being a human after this. He couldn’t even run as a human, but now he was here — flying. He could barely feel the pain from the wound on his shoulder. It was luckily not too deep, and the bleeding had already slowed to a sluggish crawl.

“Viktor!” From above, he heard his name and several whooping noises. He looked up to see Jayce and the other Ikran riders swooping down around him, their faces as equally as excited. There was nothing mocking in the Na’vi’s expressions — just sheer joy for his accomplishment. Okay, Viktor allowed, maybe Ekko’s friends weren’t all that bad. Being Ikran riders was a great equalizer. Here, in the sky, they were all of the same purpose: to fly.

Ekko also joined them. Together, they explored the floating mountains of Iknimaya from the air. Flying around the mountains, rather than climbing them, brought everything into perspective for Viktor. They shone from different angles, waterfalls tumbling off of them into the air, creating rainbows in the light. Viktor reached out and swiped his hand against the falling water, marveling at the existence of such a beautiful place. If he wasn’t so fond of the Tree of Voices, he would say that this was his favorite place on Pandora.

Sooner or later, though, they had to land. Jayce was all smiles as he dismounted his Ikran and strode to Viktor, hugging him at his waist, lifting him, and spinning him around. Viktor protested this treatment at first, until he gave in and laughed with him, throwing his arms into the air. They embraced as Jayce lowered Viktor to the ground, only separating with an embarrassed flush when Ekko loudly cleared his throat.

“Great job, guys.” Ekko looked at them approvingly. “You are now Ikrana Maktoyu. It’s an honor among the Na’vi — try not to let it get to your head.”

“I might, a little bit.” Viktor cheekily replied. Jayce chuckled.

Tatsyetsì watched the three of them interacting with obvious interest. He had a glint in his eye similar to the one human scientists had when they talked about Pandora.

“You gave a good fight, impressive for a dreamwalker. Come eat with us and celebrate,” Tatsyetsì invited. Viktor could now see why he was so proud — it was hard not to when you were one with the sky.

“Thank you. I think we will,” Viktor replied evenly. Jayce looked over the moon as he took out his communicator and began typing furiously.

Seeing everyday Na’vi life in person was an experience that surpassed every retelling and visual recording. Viktor and Jayce sat together near the fire, observing all of the Na’vi around them. Old and young alike interacted amicably with each other, at peace within their community. A younger Na'vi with five fingers waved shyly at Viktor. He smiled and waved back.

Next to Viktor, Jayce was engaged in conversation with Tatsyetsì. He was a younger member of the tribe, interested in the cosmos outside of Pandora, and claimed to have learned English out of boredom. They had more in common than Viktor had thought. Perhaps Tatsyetsì really had messed with Viktor’s machines out of a sense of curiosity, and not malice.

The Tsahik, the spiritual leader of the tribe, was the only one among them that stayed solemn. She sat close to Viktor and Jayce, but her head was bent in quiet conversation with Ekko.

The Tsahik lifted her head and looked at Viktor and Jayce. She addressed them directly in English: “Viktor and Jayce. Ekko tells me you wish to access the Well of Souls, our most sacred place. What makes you think you deserve this privilege?”

It was time to make a good impression. His work was at stake. Viktor took the lead. “With all due respect, Tsahik, we do not. My partner and I have done nothing of importance that would be worthy in your eyes. We only ask for your help in achieving our dream to help our people.”

“And what is this dream?” The Tsahik asked.

Jayce answered before Viktor could. “To allow humans to connect with each other, as the Na’vi do. If people could understand and see the truth in each other, find common ground, our existence on Earth would have turned out differently.”

The Tsahik looked more closely at them — no, into them.

“You have already performed tsaheylu with each other,” she stated. It was not a question.

“We have, Tsahik.” Viktor answered. He braced himself for her response.

“And how did you find it? The bond,” she asked, betraying nothing in her tone.

“It was —” Jayce began.

“It was terrifying.” Viktor finished, ignoring Jayce’s look of surprise. He answered honestly. It had been one of the most terrifying experiences in his life. “I didn’t expect such... intensity. Jayce is right. Humans would be different if we had this ability.”

The Tsahik stared at them for a long moment, her catlike eyes reflecting the light of the fire. Viktor suppressed the urge to squirm under her knowledgeable gaze.

Finally, she nodded. “We will allow you entrance to the Well of Souls if you assist Ekko in finding the source of sickness in our Hometree.”

Viktor relaxed. “Thank you for this honor, Tsahik. We will do our best.” Jayce reached behind and placed a reassuring hand on Viktor’s back. Good work Viktor, it seemed to say.

“Do not take this task lightly,” the Tsahik warned, “Our home is not the Well of Souls, but it is just as important to us. The leaves turn dead before their time, and the inside of our tree rots. It strikes fear into the hearts of my people, and is never far from their minds. Find the source of the disease.”

“We understand,” Jayced answered, “Home is everything.”

The Tsahik nodded again. She seemed satisfied. “Good.”

“You did great,” Ekko told them as they left the Hometree, making their way back to their Ikrans, “The Tsahik rarely likes humans.”

“That was called liking us?” Jayce laughed in disbelief.

Ekko shrugged. “As much as she can like a human.”

“Alright, fair,” Jayce accepted, sharing a look with Viktor.

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to do tsaheylu with each other,” Ekko continued, looking over the two of them with a knowledgeable eye, “You’ve only known each other for a few months.”

“We’re partners now. Everything we do, we do together.” Jayce told him. Viktor could tell Jayce was looking at him. He kept his eyes down this time, though he couldn’t hide his small smile. The bioluminescent forest lit their way as they walked together, as if it were celebrating with them.

When Viktor walked into his next painting session with Mel, she was not in her usual place at the easel. Instead, she was standing near the door, waiting for him. Her hands were clutched together.

“Mel,” Viktor greeted, “Are you up to date on my personal life?”

Mel gave a little grin. “I don’t need other people to tell me what I already know.” Her brow was still pinched — she was obviously worried about something.

“What’s wrong?” Viktor asked.

She sighed heavily. “My mother’s right hand man has been going around some of the other bases on Pandora, attempting to gather a... group of interest, they called it.”

“Rictus?” Viktor remembered him. Tall, large, and stoic — always standing guard at Ambessa Medarda’s side, or at the doors to her room when she was in her private chambers.

“The very same. I never pegged him to be a leader, which worries me. He’s probably acting on my mother’s orders.”

“That’s possible, but Ambessa can’t do anything from Earth.”

Mel bit the inside of her lip. “And what if she’s here? If she never left?” It bothered Viktor to see her this worried. She was usually poised and confident, ready to handle any situation that came her way.

“It’s impossible. We saw her on the transport. Either way, someone is behind Rictus, whether it’s your mother, or someone else.” Viktor assured her firmly.

“We can’t allow anyone else to take up her extremist ideals. I have to find the source,” Mel said. She did not look excited at the prospect.

“Do you need help?” Viktor asked, already running scenarios in his mind.

Mel shook her head. “Not for now. I don’t believe he’s gotten very far in persuading others. If I do need help, you will be the first to know.”

“I’m here to support you, no matter what you ask,” he assured her.

Mel smiled. “Thank you, Viktor. I hope it doesn’t come to that again.” She hesitated, then added, “Be careful. Rictus may seek revenge for your role in deposing my mother.”

“I’ll be careful,” Viktor assured her, “To be honest, I think you’re more at risk than I am.”

Mel gave him a brittle smile, “I know my mother, however far away she may be. She would only harm me as a last resort. Instead, she would hurt those around me to keep me in line.”

Viktor had no words for that. Who did? Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, something Jayce had done for him.

It worked. Mel relaxed slightly under his touch, the worry disappearing from her brow.

“I see that Jayce Talis has been a good influence on you,” she teased lightly. Viktor scoffed, failing to hide his smile.

She continued, “Anyway, on to better things. Painting — I was thinking of landscapes today. Did you have anything particular in mind?”

Viktor thought for a moment, then smiled. “I have just the thing.”

Jayce and Viktor stand on the edge of a sand-covered cliff, looking down at the waves crashing against the rocky shore below them. In the far distance, large neon signs dot the sky, displaying virtual ads of every kind. Viktor does not miss them in the least. He thinks that humans lost something, when they let false lights take over the sky. Humans lost a lot of things.

A loose rock dislodges from the cliffside. It soars down the cliff and drops into the water with a splash they can barely see. Jayce steps back and looks around them. “This is Big Sur. It’s a state park that runs up the coastline of California. I used to go camping here when I went to college in Los Angeles. The sky-ads and pollution aren’t as bad here. I always found the sound of the ocean calming,” he explains. He wanted to show Viktor another one of his favorite places, now that they have full access to their memories. We can go anywhere, anytime, he said.

“It’s beautiful,” Viktor says, staring out at the churning waters. The wind is breezy and easy. Air is air, but it feels different here. He didn’t know it could sweep over him, soothing all of the rough edges of his person. Even the highway some distance behind them holds some beauty. It’s an artificial river of flowing lights and metal. He closes his eyes and take a deep breath. “The ocean where I’m from is a little, eh, depressing.”

“From Europe?” Jayce asks.

Viktor opens his eyes and blinks at him. “What? I’m from New York.”

“You’re from New York? But — you have an accent.”

Viktor gives him a dry look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jayce blanches. “I mean — uh, you sound like you’re from somewhere in Eastern Europe. Did you move here when you were younger? I’m sorry if that —” he splutters. Viktor feels a little sorry for him. “If that sounds insensitive.”

“It’s alright. That’s a reasonable assumption to make,” Viktor sighs. He watches Jayce relax, and tries not to laugh at his expense. Jayce is so careful not to insult those around him. He tends to bend over backwards to make other people comfortable. Viktor can’t lie — he does enjoy the sight of a flustered Jayce, but he thinks that Jayce would benefit from less people pleasing tendencies.

Taking a deep breath, Viktor begins his explanation. He gave this spiel a lot when he was first accepted into the Pandoran New Scientists Program. People loved to listen to his sad sad story, storing it like a little trinket in their pocket. They enjoyed it safely from a distance — sterilely sad, but not painful. It drips from Viktor’s teeth with an acrid flavor.

“My mother — she was a refugee. The government settled her in a small area with a large group of her countrymen, all fleeing the war in her home country. She was a scientist, a professor — the only reason her application was accepted. I was born there and raised in the community. It can feel very insular in these slums, where the rich essentially cordoned off the refugees to spare them the sight of the unwashed masses. You must band together to survive. And that’s what we did.”

Jayce is silent, probably trying to imagine Viktor in that sort of environment. Viktor doesn’t know how to feel about that. Then Jayce asks, “What did she teach?”

Viktor shrugs. His voice sounds empty when it reaches his ears. “She didn’t. The government made empty promises to everyone in those places. She couldn’t find work at any university or school. She worked as a cleaner at a hotel until they were all replaced by machines, because the wealthy guests hated seeing them and what they represented. Then, a factory. She became sick, and died.” Despite his unemotional tone, Viktor realizes his heart is pounding in his chest. His fists are clenched, knuckles strained white from the force of it.

“I’m so sorry, Viktor. I would have liked to meet her.” Jayce’s eyes are open and honest. He stands there against the backdrop of the ocean, a steady and strong figure, while the water churns around him.

“Maybe you still can, when we complete the NeuralCore.”

Jayce smiles. “Once we get the data from the Well of Souls.” He pauses for a moment. His smile falls. “I’m from Boston. We were that close the entire time.”

Viktor shrugs. “That’s an entire state away. And New York is a big place. I might as well have been on the moon.”

“Or Pandora,” Jayce adds. He frowns. A strange expression crosses his face. “Do you think we would have been friends? When we were growing up?”

A strange question to ask, in Viktor’s opinion. Jayce’s head is stuck in what-ifs and long gone possibilities. He should be here now, in a past of their own making. Viktor pretends to think. “Mmn, I wonder. You probably had a big head as a kid. Teenager too,” he hides a sly smile, “I would have had my hands full with you. Just like I do now.”

“Hey!” Jayce protests. He tackles Viktor into the sand. Viktor momentarily braces for pain as he falls with Jayce, but feels nothing as he lands on his back. He remembers the ephemeral state of his body and relaxes. He recovers and grabs the back of Jayce’s shirt, trying to shove sand down his back, but frowns as his other hand simply phases through the sand when he reaches for it. That’s unfortunate. He looks back at Jayce to see him laying on top of Viktor’s chest, resting his chin on his arms and staring at Viktor like he’s the only thing worth looking at.

“What were you going to do?” Jayce asks innocently, smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Viktor pouts, “Nothing I can’t do yet, anyway.”

Jayce grins. He shifts forward to place a kiss below Viktor’s eye, then another at the corner of his mouth. Viktor turns his head to catch his lips with his. They melt against each other, savoring and lingering in the eternal moment.

It feels like they're just two young men on a trip to the beach — happy, in love, the future in front of them. A picture of unbound possibility. Viktor wonders where they would have met, had he stayed on Earth. At a symposium, or in a random city somewhere, eyes meeting each other across a crowded train. But he’s not a person who dreams of these what-ifs. He’s a person who reaches to make the amorphous take solid form in his hands, even if he has to shape it himself.

Viktor gathers the strength to say the words out loud. Jayce deserves to hear them from his own mouth. “I’m glad we met each other, even if we had to wait until Pandora. This is exactly where we should be.”

Above him, Jayce’s eyes widen. He stares down at Viktor, momentarily speechless. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah, me too.”

Viktor surges up to kiss him again. Jayce meets him in the middle.

Outside of his Avatar and the NeuralCore, a slowly creeping sensation started to set upon Viktor the more time he spent outside of his body. He no longer felt at ease inside his original vessel. Now, he knew what it was like to be able to move through the world with reckless abandon, to be contained in the entirety of a world, rather than a series of small, cramped rooms. He wanted more for himself, and knew the way forward.

Viktor closes his eyes, and dreams of flying.

Chapter Text

“Viktor’s late.” Jayce rubbed at his beard as he checked his communicator.

He hadn't had the time lately to keep himself groomed. His hair was longer, starting to hang into his face, and his beard was full and slightly scratchy. The only thing keeping him from shaving it all off was that Viktor seemed to prefer it. A lot.

Jayce frowned as he typed out a quick message to Viktor, his tail swishing idly behind him. Ekko stood next to him. Unlike Jayce, he had mastered the art of holding his tail still.

“How’s his leg?” Ekko asked. Jayce winced as he put away his communicator. The last few months, the two of them had been spending a lot of time in the Link Unit — Viktor even more so.

Viktor's condition, previously stable, had deteriorated due to muscle atrophy. Now, he had significantly more difficulty walking, and needed to take medication for the pain.

“No improvement yet, but the crutch I designed seem to be working well. I’ve brought up the idea of a wheelchair, but he says he doesn’t need it.”

Ekko didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head. “We have a hard limit on link time exactly because of situations like these. I’m sure your research doesn’t require spending this much time linked to your Avatars.”

Jayce swallowed. He didn’t know what to say to Ekko. In truth, until very recently, they had been utilizing the NeuralCore to visit Jayce’s memories. With their research on hold until they could find the source of Hometree’s sickness, Jayce had kept his promise to show Viktor all of his favorite places.

Viktor wasn’t fond of large cities, so they had stuck to the natural world. They had accompanied the memory of a younger Jayce on his roadtrips. Sitting, invisible, in the back of the automobile, they watched a younger Jayce sing, talk, and laugh with a different person every time — friend, girlfriend, boyfriend.

Jayce had been embarrassed, but Viktor had taken it all in stride. He liked the open roads, fresh air, and the simple joy of careening down the highway at 80 miles an hour. He would lean against the window and close his eyes to feel the wind on his face. Jayce would watch him in silence, absorbing every detail of his peaceful face.

They had gone everywhere together: quiet and misty forests, deep red canyons, snowy mountains, verdant fields of poppy and lavender. They had strolled down beaches hand in hand, walked through deep underbrush and giggled as they hopped over fallen logs and small brooks, crossed rivers and followed them to the sea. Something inside of Jayce settled every time they were together like this. He found himself inside every curve of Viktor’s smile and every brush of their hands. He found his soul.

“Thank you, Jayce,” Viktor said every time they disconnected, like Jayce had given him the world.

But then, slowly at first, then all of a sudden, Viktor’s condition had worsened. Jayce was forced to put a stop to their trips, and watched as Viktor retreated into himself. He had agreed to take better care of his body and spend less time linked to his Avatar, but now he was linking to his Avatar by himself, staying long after Jayce was done for the day. Jayce still had no idea how to broach the subject.

Jayce opened his mouth. “We’ve cut down on our link time. You don’t have to worry,” he told Ekko.

Ekko sighed. “Then what has he been doing lately, when he links without you?”

“Well... I don’t know for sure,” Jayce admitted sheepishly, “Probably flying around on his Ikran.”

“Aren’t you two partners?” Ekko asked, raising his brow.

Jayce scratched the back of his head. “We practically live on top of each other, so I try to give him space when I can. I’ve also been consulting with Cait on our new signal towers, so we can communicate more easily with the other bases.”

Ekko looked thoughtful. “Why now? Something going on?”

Jayce shrugged. “Cait says it’s vandalism. Some people here and there stirring up trouble, nothing to worry about.”

Viktor chose that moment to fly in on his Ikran. Rio, he had named her, after a childhood pet. He dismounted with an easy flourish, as if he had been doing it his entire life. “Good morning. Where are we searching today?” he asked them, shifting from one foot to the other.

Ekko crossed his arms. “Have you checked the time?” he asked, obviously annoyed.

“My apologies. I got distracted.” Viktor looked tired. Jayce hadn’t heard him come in the night before.

“It’s all right,” Jayce was quick to assure him, ignoring Ekko’s incredulous look, “Let’s get started.”

Ekko sighed and dropped the subject. “Fine. Well — good news. I think we’re closing in on the source of the Hometree sickness. Tracking via groundwater instead of surface rivers was a good idea, Viktor. I’ve narrowed it down to an area of a few square kilometers.”

“A few? That’s still a pretty large area,” Viktor considered, “Do you think we’ll be able to find it today?”

“Who knows,” Ekko shrugged, “I’m hopeful. We better get started, we’re losing daylight.” They pored over the map and split their search area into grids, distributing them among themselves.

“Send a message if you spot anything,” Ekko instructed them as he hopped onto his Ikran, “Remember, look for newer growths. Could mean someone cut the forest down to hide something.”

“Astra!” Jayce whistled to his Ikran. Astra ambled over, nosing playfully at his chest. Jayce laughed. “Sorry, girl. We gotta get to work.” He patted her flank and linked their queues, smiling as he felt her impatience.

The three of them set out in different directions. The Ikrans were useful for flying between the brush, something that choppers and other machines couldn’t do. Despite their Ikrans making the task easier, they still had to rely on their eyes to scan the entire area for anything suspicious.

Jayce got lucky around hour two. He spotted a large red signpost stuck into the ground, decorated with the image of a skull. “Wow, okay. That was easy,” he muttered to himself, cursing the RDA. “Why didn’t you guys bother putting it on a map?”

He directed Astra to set them down some ways away from the sign, just in case, and pulled out his communicator. “Ekko, Viktor. I think I’ve found it. Sending you my coordinates.”

The communicator crackled. Viktor’s voice sounded out. “That's very odd, Jayce, because I think I also found it.”

Jayce paused, considering. “Is it a red sign with a skull on it?” he asked.

“Correct.”

Jayce heard Ekko curse over the communicator, “They must be all over this area. We need to canvas the entire perimeter before investigating. Finish your search and flag your coordinates if you come across any more.”

“Roger that.” Jayce put away his communicator and groaned. Dammit. He still had a lot of ground to cover. Astra, sensing his mood, rested her head on his shoulder and chirped. Jayce chuckled and reached up to pat her blue-green head. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Gotta keep my head up.”

By sunset, the three of them had searched the entire area, finding five sites in all. They congregated at the last one and looked it over.

“Looks like I’m going to need the entire team for this,” Ekko sat on the ground and read the output from his tablet, “The RDA was dumping their toxic byproducts wherever they wanted, without considering the downstream effects. Typical,” he scoffed.

Jayce shared a look with Viktor, whose golden eyes glittered with excitement. Go on, ask him, Viktor’s eyes said.

Jayce threw him a pointed look. Right now? Seriously?

Viktor shrugged and gestured toward Ekko, who had his back turned towards them. If not now, then when? He said with his face.

Jayce raised his eyebrow, tilted his head toward Ekko, and pointed at Viktor. Then you do it.

Viktor pouted. Jayce’s eyes did not deceive him — Viktor had pouted. Jayce shot him a look of mock outrage. How dare —

“I can hear you guys thinking behind me!” Ekko said loudly, interrupting them. Jayce and Viktor jumped. Ekko laughed and shook his head fondly as he got up. “Man, you guys are so predictable. It’s cute.”

“Well?” Viktor asked. He stood still, but Jayce could tell that under his skin, Viktor was vibrating with excitement.

Ekko sighed and put away his tablet. “Fine. You did help find the source of the disease. No one said anything about fixing it.”

“We’re not going to abandon you, Ekko,” Viktor told him sincerely. Jayce made a noise of agreement next to him.

“We just want to get started on our work. It’s going to take some time to process all the data,” Jayce explained.

Ekko looked at them for a long moment. Then, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll update the Tsahik on what we found. You guys can go to the Well of Souls. But you have to come back in a few days to help me coordinate the cleanup, got it?”

“You’re in charge of cleanup, too?” Jayce asked, surprised.

“That’s where it counts. Just regular, everyday things." Ekko smiled and waved them off. “See you guys later.”

Jayce and Viktor de-linked from their Avatars at the same time, which was rare, nowadays; Viktor usually stayed linked to his Avatar long after everyone else in the lab had retired for the day.

Viktor always instructed Jayce not to stay up waiting for him, but Jayce always stubbornly refused. He would lie in Viktor’s bed, trying to stay awake until the early hours of the morning. This was easier said than done. Viktor’s glowing stars on the ceiling and his calm, clean scent all around Jayce easily lulled him to sleep.

Sometimes, Jayce woke up when Viktor slid into the bed behind him. If he tried to speak, Viktor would shush him gently, wrapping his arms around Jayce, snuggling into his back. In such a comfortable position, with Viktor’s body pressed warm and solid against his back. Jayce would quickly succumb to sleep again.

If Jayce managed to wake up when Viktor opened the door to his room, he would open his arms, waiting for Viktor to climb into bed. They would embrace, whispering secrets to each other only they were meant to hear.

Today, they unlinked at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, Jayce surreptitiously watched Viktor take his crutch and struggle to stand. His heart sank when he saw how difficult it had become for Viktor. He did his best to wipe the worry on his face. He didn’t want Viktor to think Jayce pitied him. It wasn’t pity, not at all.

It scared Jayce, just how much he had come to care for Viktor. They had been strangers, paired together under strange circumstances. Slowly, their lives had become deeply intertwined. Around the base, they were known as Jayce and Viktor — Viktor and Jayce. “Jayce, where is your Viktor?” the shopkeepers asked him when he was alone. “For Viktor,” they would say other times, pressing a small gift into his hands and refusing to take payment. Jayce didn’t dare ask what they said to Viktor when he was the one alone — Jayce’s own little gifts from the shopkeepers said enough.

Despite how intimately they had come to know each another, Jayce didn’t know how to approach Viktor regarding his health. Viktor was a proud man. When he was sure of his path, it was difficult to convince him otherwise, and if pushed too hard, he tended to draw away into himself. That was the last thing Jayce wanted. For now, he pushed his worries aside.

“Come on, let’s celebrate. The Last Drop?” he asked casually. Viktor looked up hesitantly, then nodded.

“After you,” Viktor said.

The Last Drop was decently full at this time of night, but Jayce and Viktor found their regular table in the corner empty. While Viktor sat and waited, Jayce went up to the bar and ordered food and drinks from Vi.

“Everything going okay?” Vi winked at him as she filled their order, “You look unusually happy tonight. Finally getting hitched? Should I hide the ring in his drink?” She laughed as Jayce spluttered, her blue eyes twinkling.

Jayce recovered and shook his head fondly at her antics. “Just celebrating. We finally got approval for the Well of Souls,” he told her.

Vi let out a low whistle. “That’s fantastic. You guys still need little old me now that you have your fancy Ikran?”

“We’ll always need you, Vi,” Jayce told her sincerely, “And I’ll let you know if it interferes with game night.”

“You’re just saying that because I kick your ass at every card game known to man,” Vi teased as she set their tray on the counter. “Order up.”

“Thanks, Vi. I’ll see you later.” Jayce took the tray and went back to their table.

Viktor was studying his notes as Jayce approached. “I think we can calibrate all of the equipment tomorrow and set out —” he broke off into a long yawn, “— set out the day after,” he finished sleepily.

“Really? What about all those pieces we needed to rewire?” Jayce asked. He took his sandwich, making sure Viktor had started eating, before starting on his own.

“They’re already done,” Viktor mumbled as he chewed.

Jayce blinked. “You did it all without me?”

Viktor shrugged. “I had a lot of time.”

“While linked?”

Viktor nodded. Jayce hesitated, trying to think of a way to broach the subject.

“Viktor…” he started.

“Don’t — please, Jayce,” Viktor sighed.

“You know I have to, Viktor,” Jayce said in a low voice, “It hurts to see you get weaker and weaker when you spend all of your time linked. Your Avatar isn’t really —”

“It is.” Viktor’s eyes seemed to flash in the dim lighting of the bar. “It’s real and my life, Jayce.”

“But if you keep going on like this,” Jayce squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. It was too awful to think about. “You might not be able to continue. What will happen with our research?” What will happen to us? he wanted to say.

“I have every desire to see our work to the end. My human body won’t matter soon, anyway,” Viktor assured him firmly. He averted his eyes, looking down at the table.

Jayce’s breath hitched. It couldn’t be. “Won’t matter? You’re — you’re talking about the consciousness transfer, aren’t you?” It was so obvious. He should have seen this coming. Why else would Viktor disregard his own health so easily?

“I am,” Viktor answered. He wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“How long?”

“A while,” Viktor admitted quietly, “The Tsahik told me it was possible.”

Jayce’s emotions roiled underneath the surface, fighting for Jayce to make his thoughts known, to shout and cry and scream. He struggled to keep them under control. “What about your life here, your work — us?” he managed to scratch out.

“There will be a few... adjustments to make,” Viktor admitted, “But not a lot will change —”

“Not a lot?” Jayce rasped, “Not a lot? Viktor, the few people who’ve permanently transferred to their Avatar body have left to live with the Na’vi. Nothing on the base is designed for a Na’vi, and certainly not the lab!” His voice rose in volume unexpectedly, and some of the other bar patrons, including Vi, started to look in their direction.

Jayce lowered his voice and continued, “If we wanted to be together, one of us would always have to wear a rebreathing mask. We would always be between two worlds.”

“You’re exaggerating the difficulty,” Viktor said shortly. “It would be the healthy choice — the right choice. You could never understand what it’s like, being in a body that betrays and hurts you. As a Na’vi, I could do anything. The world would finally be open to me —”

“You’re right, maybe I don’t understand,” Jayce shot back, “But you were stable until we started linking with the NeuralCore. There was never anything wrong with you, Viktor. You’re perfect —”

Viktor cut him off with a glare. “Don’t you dare say that. That is your opinion. It’s my choice — my life.

“Viktor, please —”

Viktor scowled. “Do you even want me to get better? Just because you need someone to take care of, doesn’t mean I’m suddenly unable to make my own choices. We’re not tied together,” he snapped, then stiffened as his own words sank in.

Jayce’s anger vanished, and he looked at the other man in silence, resigned. Viktor was right. No matter the strength of their mutual affection, they were still two different people. Viktor was his own person, and made his own choices. Jayce had no claim over him.

He wished Viktor had trusted him enough to confide in him, instead of isolating himself for weeks. He ignored that place, deep inside, that cried out in anguish at the thought of untangling their lives, of Viktor leaving him all alone in that bed. He was being selfish. Viktor deserved a better life.

Across from Jayce, Viktor squeezed his eyes shut. His hands shook. “Jayce —”

Jayce shook his head. “No, I get it. I overstepped. Of course I respect your choices, V. I just —” He couldn’t keep going.

“I haven’t, I — That’s not what I meant —” Viktor stuttered, not his usual articulate self.

Jayce stood abruptly from the table, Viktor watching him with wide eyes.

“I just —” Jayce sighed and ran a hand over his face. He was just so tired. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” Viktor said quietly. Jayce could feel his eyes on him as he left the bar.

Back in his own room, Jayce lay awake in the darkness, unable to sleep. He stared up at his pitch black ceiling, a sky without stars. He groaned and turned to his side, staring at the wall, pulling the covers higher over himself. It was useless — it was all so useless.

He didn’t know how much time had passed in the darkness, when he heard a faint knocking sound coming from the wall he shared with Viktor.

Viktor can’t sleep either, he thought. He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and knocked back.

A few moments passed, then the door to the bathroom opened and closed. Jayce kept his eyes shut, hearing the soft sound of footsteps and tapping moving closer to his bed.

A long pause. Then, the covers lifted slightly, and Viktor slowly crept into the bed behind him. Neither of them said a word. Jayce trembled as he felt Viktor wrap his arms around him, and covered Viktor’s hands with his own. Behind him, he could feel Viktor trembling against his back.

Jayce lifted their joined hands, and bent his head to place a kiss on the other man’s fingers. Viktor made a small sound and buried his head into Jayce’s shoulder blades. He let out a deep sigh, and his breaths slowly evened out.

Just like that, surrounded by Viktor, Jayce closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Vi opened the door and made a show of looking around Jayce. “Viktor not joining us today?”

“Ehh. Viktor’s a little... busy.” Jayce rubbed the back of his neck.

Vi gave Jayce a knowing look. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe later.”

Vi shrugged. “Suit yourself. Drown your sorrows?”

“Can’t — we’re going to the Well of Souls tomorrow.” Jayce told her.

“Boring tea it is.” Vi opened the door wider to let Jayce into the unit she shared with Caitlyn. The unit was meant for couples without children. It consisted of a standard-sized bedroom, and a main room with a tiny kitchenette. The decor harmonized surprisingly well, despite Caitlyn and Vi’s contrasting tastes.

Caitlyn was setting up the game at the table. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Jayce without Viktor. “Vi told me.”

Jayce saw Vi’s grin as she went to take the kettle off the stove. “We just had a little disagreement, that’s all.”

“You two, having a real disagreement? Must have been bad.” Caitlyn and Vi shared a look.

Jayce ran a hand over his face. “He wants to do the consciousness transfer.”

“What, seriously?” Vi almost dropped the kettle.

“He wants to leave the base? He wants to leave you?” Caitlyn asked incredulously.

Jayce sat down heavily and rested his elbows on the table, hands holding up his head. “Viktor says that it won’t change anything, but I don’t think that’s possible. It’s never been done before.”

“If anyone could do it, it would be you guys,” Caitlyn said thoughtfully, “What did you say to him?”

“That I support whatever decision he makes. He has his reasons. I just wish he would have told me sooner.”

“Would you ever join him? As a Na’vi?” Vi asked.

Jayce shook his head. “I have a life here. Other people I care about. And if I did, I’d never be able to go back to Earth.”

“Earth?” Vi asked incredulously, “You’d go back to that dump? No offense,” she shot towards Caitlyn, who shook her head.

“There’s nothing back there for you, other than your mother,” Caitlyn said, “And I think... if she knew you were enjoying your life here, she wouldn’t want you to leave Pandora. That’s how I would feel, anyway,” she added quickly.

Jayce rubbed his forehead. “I just want to stay with Viktor. Be by his side and keep doing research together for the rest of our lives. I just —” He sighed heavily and rested his head on the table.

Vi came to the rescue, patting his shoulder. “Okay, fuck the game. You want to curl up on the couch and watch a movie instead?”

Jayce nodded weakly, cheek rubbing against the wood. “Please.”

After a long ride on their Ikrans, Viktor and Jayce found themselves inside the Well of Souls, standing in front of the Tree of Souls. It was similar in shape to the Tree of Voices, but much larger, and more powerful. Above the tree, rings and rings of jagged, arching stone rose up to form a protective canopy.

“Holy... shit,” was all Jayce could really say about it. From where they were standing, he had to crane his neck back to see all the way to the top of the formation.

Viktor, surprisingly, was more focused on their work than the splendor in front of them. “We should focus on our work. Come on,” he said, reaching for the pile of equipment in front of them, “The Well is a large area. We need to finish before sunrise.”

“Our usual plan of attack, then?” Jayce asked. Viktor nodded, and they spread out to take their initial readings of the area.

It had been a few days since their argument. Neither of them acknowledged it, trying to continue as if nothing had happened. Things were still awkward. Jayce had tried to make his peace with Viktor’s decision. Viktor deserved to thrive, even if it changed what they had together. Jayce sighed and, with one last long look at Viktor, all the way on the other side of the clearing, he pushed his thoughts aside, and continued with their work.

When Jayce and Viktor finally decided where to place the probes, they sat next to each other to review the data as it came in, their backs against one of the tree’s large roots.

“There’s much more activity than the Tree of Voices,” Viktor said happily, looking down at this tablet. He glanced at Jayce, then winced and quickly looked away.

“It makes sense. This is one of the spiritual centers of the planet.” Jayce supplied, ignoring his reaction for both of their sakes. His heart hurt all the same.

Viktor grabbed onto Jayce’s offer like it was a lifeline. “After this, we’ll be able to reach Neural Level 3. Then we’ll have achieved programming the NeuralCore with almost all the forms of tsaheylu.”

Jayce smiled encouragingly. “Then we can finish our tests.” He blinked. “Wait, almost all? Are we missing something?”

“What?” Viktor looked at him with surprise. “No, of course not,” he replied, too quickly. His tail, lying between them, twitched against the ground. “I just — eh…”

Jayce was confused. As partners, they shared everything about their research. Viktor acted like this about some aspects of his personal life, but never about their work. He wracked his brain for the different types of tsaheylu: Na’vi to creature, Na’vi to the planet, Na’vi to another Na’vi, and — wait.

What?

“You couldn’t be referring to... the mating bond,” he said slowly, carefully watching Viktor, who stiffened and wouldn’t meet Jayce’s eyes. That was enough.

“Viktor, what the fuck?” Jayce asked blankly, “That bond is for life. With everything that happened —”

“I didn’t say I wanted to do it. It’s not like it would affect our human brains, anyway,” Viktor countered churlishly. He sat with his knees to his chest, curling a little into himself.

“But you’ve been thinking about it.” Jayce snorted when Viktor shook his head. “Please, Viktor. I know you.”

“I’ve always been curious about it... but I didn’t think I’d find anyone who I would want to test it with,” Viktor admitted, jaw tense.

Jayce stared. “Viktor —”

“And I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Not telling you about my plan,” Viktor said, “I didn’t realize you had been... more worried for me than you should have been. I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”

Jayce reached over and placed his hand on his arm. “Viktor, I care about you. Worrying is a normal part of that. I just wish you had told me earlier.”

Viktor looked back at him, biting the inside of his lip. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m putting the transfer on hold. I don’t want to be a Na’vi just yet.”

Jayce blinked in surprise. “You seemed pretty hellbent on it. Why’d you change your mind?”

Viktor stayed silent and stared at him, the way he usually did when he was trying to tell Jayce something, but had trouble saying it out loud.

Jayce searched his face, but couldn’t figure it out. “Viktor? I’m sorry. I really don’t understand.”

Viktor groaned. His face tightened, the way it did when he was upset.

“Hey, come here, it’s okay.” Jayce moved closer, yelping in surprise when Viktor suddenly crawled into his lap instead, wrapping his arms around Jayce and buying his face into the space between Jayce’s neck and shoulder. Jayce rubbed his back soothingly. With his chest pressed against Viktor’s, he tried to steady his breathing so Viktor could feel it.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Jayce rubbing his back, Viktor curled into him. This wasn’t unusual. They liked to do this after their bedroom activities wound down, quietly talking to each other, before settling down to sleep.

Viktor shuddered in his arms, and something wet fell onto his shoulder. Jayce just held him tighter, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Whatever you choose, today or years from now, I will never stop being your partner,” Jayce whispered into his hair, feeling a little foolish at his saccharine pledge. But as he said it, he knew it was the truth. They belonged here, the both of them. Back on Earth, they would have lived and died without ever meeting. Here, on Pandora, they couldn’t help but fall into place, despite their initial attempts at emotional distance. Even if they parted ways tomorrow, even if circumstances tore them apart — Jayce would still look fondly back on their time together. Nothing would change that.

Viktor was trying still trying to say something, but all he could get out was “Jayce —” before devolving into shudders and shaking his head. Jayce wished he could help him — read his mind, anything.

An idea struck him.

“Viktor,” Jayce said in wonder, gently shaking Viktor’s shoulder until he lifted his face. His golden eyes were wet, face streaked with tears. He was beautiful. “We should —” Jayce took the end of his queue and held it in his hand, offering it to Viktor. A silent question. Viktor’s eyes went large and round. He took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, reaching for his own queue.

Jayce knew Viktor was still nervous around the idea of direct tsaheylu. He couldn’t blame him — it was a terrifying experience, to truly be seen. But he and Viktor had already seen each other’s deepest fears and darkest secrets. Jayce could trust Viktor to see, and not look away.

The tendrils of their queues glowed as they wrapped around each other.

Oh god, Viktor hadn’t considered where they were — at the Well of Souls. This is where an entire community could connect to Eywa. The connection was heightened around the tree. And he wants it — oh, how he wants it. To be with Jayce always. To see him, to be one with him. Viktor could never leave him. Jayce was right. Viktor had been so caught up in a life that could be, he didn’t stop to think about the life he already has — the one he has with Jayce. If he became a Na’vi, he and Jayce would be pulled apart. They would lose what they had built: lives so intertwined with each other they could barely see where one began and the other ended. A functioning body and freedom... over ViktorandJayce. JayceandViktor. He didn’t want freedom. He wanted to be inextricably bound to Jayce. He loved him. He would feel pathetic and small for his feelings, but he knew that Jayce loved him in the same way.

“Of course I love you, Viktor,” Jayce whispered. It echoed through their bond, but he needed to say it out loud. Viktor shivered and closed his brilliant golden eyes. They simultaneously let go of their connected queues and pressed their foreheads together, hands cupping each other’s faces. They could each feel the touch of the other, sharing physical sensation through the bond.

Please. Please, Jayce. With me? I want to know. I want to see. With you — only with you. Our Avatars should be tied together. We’re partners. It’s only right.

What happened to the science? Jayce thought wryly.

“For science, then,” Viktor said out loud. He scowled, but pleasure echoed through their bond. He liked it when Jayce teased him. “We’ll only feel the mating bond when linked to our Avatars. Our human brains don’t have the neural pathways for lifetime bonds like some other Terran mammals.”

What a shame, they thought at the same time, and laughed. The air felt lighter. Above them, the Tree of Soul’s tendrils swayed in an invisible breeze, as if it were laughing, too.

Ready. They pressed their lips together, shivering as the shared senses amplified the sensations. Their lips and hands explored each other lazily, caught in a feedback loop of their own making. They pulled apart long enough to discard their lower clothing, before coming back together. Jayce gave a muffled grunt of protest when Viktor, who could not stop thinking about Jayce’s chest, ripped open his shirt and palmed his chest.

You like it that much?

Shut up and help me, Viktor groaned, I need you inside. It’s going to feel fantastic.

I’m probably not going to last long, Jayce thought. If kisses already felt like this — Christ, he needed to try and not come immediately.

Me neither, Viktor agreed. Connected by thought, they acted as one. Viktor lifted himself in Jayce’s lap, while Jayce took his cock, proportional but significantly larger than his human one, in his hand and stroked it a few times. Viktor gave a high noise of surprise.

Viktor, you okay?

I didn’t know it felt like that. Could you maybe — Viktor’s scientist brain trailed off into considerations, calculations, and hypotheses.

Focus, V. Jayce fondly rolled his eyes and playfully smacked Viktor’s flank with his other hand, earning a yelp. Viktor had seen it coming through the bond, of course, but he was no match for Jayce’s speed and guile.

Hah! Speed and guile. Fuck you, Talis. No, don’t you dare — yes, I know we’re already fucking, thank you for informing me.

Jayce couldn’t help it. He started laughing, chest and shoulders shaking with mirth.

Viktor looked at him with a growing sense of wonder. “You’re so happy,” he said. With me.

“So are you,” Jayce replied. He stroked his hand up and down Viktor’s side as they smiled at each other, suddenly shy.

They breathed at the same time and pressed their foreheads together again, saying to the other: I’m glad it’s you.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Jayce.”

“Viktor.”

“Talis.”

“Sokolov.”

They kissed again, then separated and looked down as Viktor pressed the head of Jayce’s cock against his his entrance. Viktor choked at the sensation, hips twitching, cunt spasming, stomach clenching. Before he could start to wobble on shaking limbs, Jayce’s hands flashed up to hold his svelte waist steady. It’s okay. Take your time.

Viktor tried again. His pussy fluttered as it finally welcomed Jayce inside. Together, they slowly lowered him onto Jayce’s cock, stopping often, panting into each other’s mouths until they regained enough composure to continue.

When Viktor was finally fully seated, Jayce paused to savor the two distinct sensations through the bond: being deliciously stretched around an unyielding shape, and being engulfed inside searing heat and clenching walls.

“Oh my god,” Jayce moaned, “Hhhh — !”

You like being penetrated, Viktor mused, already making plans in the back of his mind, You should have told me.

Jayce groaned and rested his head against Viktor’s shoulder. It was the one time.

Now two, Viktor chuckled breathlessly. He made a noise deep in his throat as he lifted himself, then sank back down onto Jayce’s cock. I love coming together like this. Even in this body, I remember your shape.

Jayce squeezed his eyes shut, his cock twitching inside of Viktor. I love it too. Having you close. Holding me inside of you.

Jayce, Viktor begged. They closed their eyes and rocked together, feeling the heat inside of them build. The sounds of their sighs and cries filled the air. Their combined thoughts became a tangled litany of Keep me, Keep me, I will, I will, as something bright and bursting spread through their chests. As their peak approached, Jayce opened his eyes, knowing that Viktor was already looking back at him.

Let go, V.

Jayce.

We’ll figure it out together.

Do you promise?

I promise.

Jayce watched as Viktor closed his eyes and started to come. He followed him, pulling Viktor’s hips down, sheathing himself inside with one last thrust. He spilled deep inside, feeling Viktor’s walls pulse around him, hungrily milking his cock.

Suddenly, physical sensation became distant. He cried out as something shifted inside his mind and clicked into place, rearranged his very neurons into the shape that would best fit Viktor. Because — because Viktor was his. There was nothing possessive or desperate attached to that statement. It was the simple truth; it just was.

Jayce is mine.

This was the culmination of everything they were. Meeting face-to-face for the first time when Viktor opened the door. Running through the fields in their Avatars. Doing research together in the forest, walking under the bioluminescent lights.

Bursting into Jayce’s room to discuss his newest idea. Spending time together in a warmly-lit bar, glasses half-full with drink. Discussing their plans in the lab, tools and parts spread out all around them. Riding their Ikrans side-by-side, mountains and rivers disappearing behind them.

Late mornings spent lying in bed, lazily pressing their mouths together. Pestering Vi into letting them use the kitchen, laughing when she yelled at them for burning half the food when they became distracted. Laying his head in Viktor’s lap in the back of an automobile inside his memories, watching earth, water, and sky pass them by.

Smiling over a board game, their competitiveness directed toward each other, or at the other team. Putting the final touches on a side project to improve the base, arguing the other person should be the one to receive most of the credit. Trying to catch Powder by surprise, succeeding not a single time. Sitting on the branches of a tall tree to watch the movement of the celestial bodies in the night sky.

Yes, Jayce could see it. He could see all of it. Tears fell from his still-closed eyes, lost in their time together. He felt Viktor’s hand brush away his tears.

“My darling,” Viktor whispered. Jayce opened his eyes and smiled at Viktor’s dear, wonderful face — Na’vi, but still the same face, the same eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered back, “Can you feel it? Us?”

Viktor hummed. “I can. We’re mated in the eyes of Eywa.” He shifted slightly, and they both groaned as Jayce’s cock twitched inside of Viktor, still hard and leaking. Jayce could feel a combination of come and slick drip out of Viktor’s hole and slide down his shaft.

Physical sensation suddenly sharpened, stronger than before. Jayce’s cock throbbed. He felt his body warming up, sweat starting to bead and slide down his temple.

Their queues still connected, he could feel that Viktor was having the same problem, but much, much worse. His cunt went practically molten around Jayce, and he whined, Jayce. I’m so hungry. I need it. I NEED IT.

“What the fuck,” Jayce panted, “Are we — are you going into heat? Reactive heat in both sexes after a mating bond? This is undocumented. I have to —” It was getting hard to think. “ — to write this down. Or is it rut? Where’s my —”

There was only one word to describe what happened next — Viktor yowled. He pushed Jayce flat onto the ground, fisted his hair, and hissed in his face, tail flicking behind him. His hips instinctively twitched and ground against Jayce’s cock inside of him, unwilling to let him go.

“No. You need to breed me right now,” Viktor growled. Then his face suddenly cleared, and he flushed a pretty shade of dark blue. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I —” he broke off as he registered Jayce’s lust spiking through their linked queues.

Jayce blinked up at him, mystified and now twice as aroused, breath quick, pupils thickly dilated. Do it again. Please.

Viktor groaned helplessly. “I — uhngg.” He rolled his hips, then lifted himself almost all the way off Jayce’s cock, dropping back down with an audible smack. “Ah! I don’t know what’s —” He did it again, and again, and again.

“V-Viktor... ah —”

“Jayce,” Viktor said, starting to panic. “I can’t stop — I really can’t — mmnff!” He cut himself off with a choked-off cry as he came with a gush of liquid, shivering violently around Jayce. His hips kept moving, fucking himself through his orgasm, then continued, even as he whined, oversensitive.

Jayce moaned and planted his feet flat onto the ground, giving him some leverage to thrust back into Viktor. Viktor was telling the truth; he really couldn’t stop. But neither could Jayce. And neither of them actually wanted to stop — that was the most important thing. He was going to breed Viktor full, just like he asked. He came at the thought, eyes fluttering and back arching as he came again into Viktor, who sighed contently, slowing his hips to a crawl to let Jayce’s come settle inside of him.

“I think — I think I can keep going,” Jayce panted. His cock didn’t feel oversensitive, like it usually did after sex. Just how many times could he come?

Let’s find out, Viktor thought, a little meanly. He squeezed Jayce’s cock inside of him, tilting his hips to teasingly drag the head of his cock along his walls. Jayce grinned, and, in one swift move, reversed their positions. Viktor blinked up at him, slightly dazed. Then he grinned, too, and reached up to pull Jayce back down.

Time bent around them. Jayce’s memory went slightly hazy from the heat, and from the doubled sensations overloading his mind. The two of them liked to egg each other on; they worked together well that way. And doing that while mentally and physically connected, right after they were mated, in heat — well, it got very out of control very quickly.

Jayce remembered the rest of their heat in brief flashes:

Viktor in Jayce’s lap, back against chest, Jayce lifting Viktor’s knees with his strong arms and pistoning his hips into him, while Viktor squirmed and cried out for more.

Jayce, lying down, Viktor straddling him and riding him into the ground, his hands wrapped around Jayce’s neck, both of their eyes fluttering from the shared asphyxiation, always knowing just how much to squeeze to get the most pleasure.

Jayce, mounting Viktor, on all fours on the ground, hips tilted up. Viktor’s whining breaths forced out of his lungs each time Jayce pushed into him with an audible smack! Jayce felt Viktor’s fingers clawing at the ground for purchase as he sobbed wetly, mind simultaneously begging for mercy and for more more more, please Jayce, more.

Viktor, sitting on Jayce’s face, covering his face with his hands, too embarrassed (but also absolutely delighted) to look down at Jayce eating his own come out of him. After he was done, Jayce rubbed his fingers inside of Viktor, tonguing at his cock. Viktor came messily, covering the lower half of Jayce’s face with his slick.

And so it went, on and on. At some point, the needs of the physical outweighed the mental. Their heat finally faded, and they sank onto the ground together, exhausted and relieved. They disconnected their queues and lay with each other in a messy embrace, covered in sweat and everything else. Jayce’s face was buried in Viktor’s stomach, panting into his skin.

“Well. I can see why no one mentioned this part,” Jayce croaked.

Viktor sniffed. “They should have.”

“Yeah,” Jayce agreed dizzily, “I’m just gonna —”

“Mmn…”

Jayce passed out from exhaustion —

And immediately opened his eyes to see the inside of his link unit.

OH, SHIT.

Jayce belatedly remembered: falling asleep in their Avatar forms knocked them back into their human bodies.

Jayce groaned. He and Viktor had left their Avatars naked and covered in bodily fluids, after copulating madly on the floor of the most sacred place on Pandora. They didn’t defile it, or anything — mating rituals were common — but it was probably not a great look if someone came across them in their current state.

They had to clean up the scene of the crime, so to speak.

“Viktor, I’m going back in!” Jayce called, hoping Viktor could hear him through the unit. He closed his eyes again.

Back in his Avatar, utterly drained and wheezing for breath, he untangled himself from Viktor’s unmoving Avatar and crawled over to their discarded clothing. He used his torn shirt to wipe both of them down as thoroughly as possible.

He felt ridiculous and giddy, like a silly teenager skipping down the road after fooling around with their high school crush. Right now, he was floating on cloud nine; he could practically fly without his Ikran. He felt even giddier when, while trying to pull clothes onto Viktor, Viktor suddenly opened his eyes and blinked up at him. They stared at each other.

“Aww,” Jayce cooed, oddly charmed, “You didn’t run away this time.”

Viktor scowled, though the curve of his mouth gave away his amusement. “I’m leaving,” he announced, and closed his eyes, going limp.

“No, wait! Help me with the —” Jayce stopped. He huffed and started pulling Viktor’s arm through a sleeve. What a menace. His menace.

Viktor opened one eye and smirked. He, of course, had been lying. Jayce grinned and piled the rest of Viktor’s clothes onto his face.

“Put them on yourself,” he ordered lightly, and started on his own clothes. Viktor finished dressing and stood up, wincing as he stumbled.

Jayce flushed. “Do you need help?”

“I’m used to walking with a limp,” Viktor replied, the line of his mouth soft as he gingerly made his way over to the tree. He connected to one of the hanging tendrils, closing his eyes and murmuring something that Jayce couldn’t hear.

“What are you doing?”

Viktor disconnected and sat heavily on the ground. “Thanking Eywa. Could you hand me my pack? I feel like a Hammerhead ran into me.”

“Hah hah. Very funny.”

They were both on their last legs. Only their commitment to their research gave them the strength to gather their equipment and find a good spot away from the tree, lined with soft moss. Jayce whistled for their Ikrans to watch over their unlinked Avatars.

Barely conscious, they delinked in a haze and managed to make it back to Viktor’s room in one piece, crawling into bed and falling asleep immediately.

Jayce was slow to wake up. He was warm and comfortable, unwilling to be pulled from his slumber. He felt Viktor shifting next to him.

“Mmmrf,” he grunted, eyes still closed. A low chuckle sounded next to him. “Time s’it?”

“Fourteen hundred,” Viktor answered him, fingers stroking softly down the side of his face.

Jayce opened his eyes to the lowly lit room. Viktor came into focus in front of him. He was smiling as he looked back at Jayce, though there was a line of worry running through his brow.

“How are you feeling?” Viktor asked, searching his face.

Jayce paused to take stock of himself. His body was a little stiff from lying in the link unit all day, but that wasn’t unusual. He was still absolutely exhausted, but sleeping had helped. And he felt, he felt —

“Viktor,” Jayce whispered, “I think I still feel it.”

Viktor hesitated. Then he nodded. “...I feel it too.”

“I thought mating bonds didn’t work like that.”

“They’re not supposed to.” Viktor’s eyebrows furrowed. He looked lost. “I — what does it feel like to you?”

“I feel different,” Jayce said slowly, feeling out the words in his mouth, “Like a... part of a whole. And when I look at you — I know that it’s you. That belongs to me. And I belong to you.”

Viktor huffed in fond amusement. “Well said.”

“Hey! I’m no poet,” Jayce bristled, then settled down. “How would you describe it?”

Viktor thought for a moment, shyly looking away and turning his head into his pillow.

He opened his mouth and recited, slightly muffled, “Yours is the light by which my spirit's born. Yours is the darkness of my soul’s return —” He broke off and sighed quietly, lashes fluttering briefly. “You are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” He peeked back up at Jayce, who realized he had been holding his breath.

Jayce smiled, basking in his words. “It’s beautiful.” Even now, Viktor was delightfully surprising.

“It’s from one of my favorite poems,” Viktor replied. In the low light, Jayce swore he could see a light dusting of pink on Viktor’s cheeks.

“I didn’t know you read poetry.”

“I used to, when I was a boy — when I wasn’t fiddling with boxes of scraps.”

Jayce could see it: A little boy sitting on a playground bench, bent over the pages of some book, his tools next to him. “It’s a beautiful poem. Is that really what it feels like for you?”

Viktor nodded. “Like you’re everything.” His golden eyes glittered in the low light.

Everything.

Jayce swallowed. “You don’t want to take notes? Write something down?”

Viktor shook his head. “I think this is something science can’t explain.”

Jayce was surprised, but he understood. “Yeah. Like we’re cosmically married.”

“Feels like much more than that,” Viktor replied. He gave a brittle little laugh.

That caught Jayce’s attention. He understood Viktor well enough to know that, while he craved connection, he was also afraid of it. “Are you scared?”

“...I am. The bond can’t be undone, Jayce. I’m sorry. If I had known —”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jayce said quickly. He hated it when Viktor went down these paths in his mind, especially when they were completely false. “I wanted this, too. So much. You saw it when we were connected. We couldn’t lie. And I’m telling you right now — I don’t regret it at all.”

He slowly drew Viktor into an embrace, one arm over his shoulders, another over his waist, kissing him sweetly. Viktor let out a deep sigh, returning the kiss, running a hand through Jayce’s messy hair. Their legs tangled together on the bed.

“Thank you for staying. I know it’s hard,” Jayce murmured in between kisses, “You’re the bravest person I know. You really are.”

Viktor didn’t answer, just tightened his grip on Jayce, like he wanted them to be one again.

“There’s no way it won’t work, V,” Jayce assured him. It was unlike Viktor to be anything but confident about his theories, but the revelation that mating bonds could affect human brains had rattled them both.

They couldn’t predict what else the bond would change for them. Many Na’vi mated couples reported being able to feel emotions from the other, if the emotion was strong enough. Some couples were physically drawn to each other, like a compass pointing them in the right direction. Some legends spoke of mating bonds so powerful that both lovers would pass away at the exact same time, no matter the distance.

“I guess we’ll find out?” Jayce had laughed nervously. Viktor had fixed him with a stare that didn’t require a mating bond to decipher.

Viktor picked up his recording device and turned it on. “Test log tee-two-dash-zero-two,” he recited, “We successfully uploaded the data from the Well of Souls into the NeuralCore. Our objective is to reach Neural Level 3. I will provide the memory. Session Begins.”

Viktor set the device aside. His tail was low to the ground, swinging from side to side. Jayce could sense the unease roiling underneath his calm exterior.

“I look forward to meeting her,” Jayce said softly.

Viktor nodded stiffly. “Then let’s begin.”

Jayce stands in a playground. It can barely be called a playground, really. It’s small, and the equipment is rusty and old. One of the swings is broken and hanging off of one chain. There are a few children around, but no parents in sight. He looks up and sees only grey. There are buildings on all four sides, stretching up so many floors that it makes him dizzy to stare for too long. The sky, fogged over with smog, is only visible as a small rectangle at the very top.

Jayce looks back at the playground and blinks. His point of view is warped, everything around him larger than expected. He looks down and realizes that he’s in a child’s body — his body, he remembers, eyeing the scar on his arm from an ill-fated tumble.

“Jayce.”

A younger Viktor, around eleven or twelve years of age, sits on the bench behind him. His cane is next to him, much smaller than the one Jayce remembers. This Viktor possesses none of the sharp edges of his adulthood. His face is round and soft, eyes wide and innocent. His legs hang off the bench, not yet tall enough to touch the ground.

“Aww, V, you’re adorable.”

Viktor rolls his eyes fondly. “Astute analysis, Jayce,” he says dryly. His serious tone sounds strange coming out of a child’s mouth.

“See? You were right. We can change our appearance to different versions of ourselves.” Jayce flexes his limbs and hops up and down, testing his new (old) body. Several children stop and stare at his strange antics, but soon return to their own business.

They enter one of the buildings and get into a rickety, old elevator. Viktor presses the number four with the end of his cane. He fidgets visibly as they ascend, and his hands grip his cane tightly.

“So — what’s the plan?” Jayce asks.

Viktor looks grateful for the distraction. “We’re about to leave on our trip, and I’m going to convince my mother to take you along,” he explains, “Her name is Anna, but you should address her as Ms. Sokolov. Remember — try to act like a child, or my mother will find it suspicious. She can be very astute.” At this, a small smile curves at the corner of Viktor’s mouth.

Jayce snorts. “Yeah. She’ll immediately know we’re adults disguised as our kid selves, and this entire world is a memory.”

“She might, actually.”

“What?”

Before Viktor can answer, the elevator door opens with an off-key ding! Jayce follows Viktor to a door at the end of the hall.

“Take this.” Viktor produces a backpack out of thin air and hands it to Jayce.

“Spontaneous item creation?” Jayce ogles. He unzips it and looks inside. “So Neural Level 3 works the way dreams do. I bet we can make anything. Like a giant hammer…”

“That’s the first thing you think of? A giant hammer?”

“Or course — I always wanted one as a kid. Just getting into character.”

Viktor shakes his head, eyes curved in amusement. He takes a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, gesturing to Jayce. “Quick, before Rio escapes.”

They slip into the apartment. Jayce hears a faint meow as Viktor closes the door behind them. A little calico cat is winding her way between Viktor’s legs, purring.

“Hello, Rio.” Viktor bends down to stroke her back. He has a particular smile on his face that Jayce has never seen before. It’s fond, a little sad, and vulnerable.

“Viktor?” A voice calls from the next room, saying something in another language. Viktor stands and looks like he’s about to speak, but he freezes instead, his breath stuttering out. Jayce reaches over and takes his hand.

“You can do it,” he whispers, squeezing. Viktor looks at him, mouth twisting to the side, before nodding.

“It’s me, Máma,” he calls, “I brought my — friend.” The sound of dishes being set down. Viktor’s mother comes out of the kitchen.

Jayce blinks. Woah. The Viktor he knows is practically the spitting image of his mother: long brown hair, elegant face, golden eyes. But where Viktor’s eyes are sharp and calculating, his mother’s eyes are kind and soft, though Jayce can tell there is just as much intelligence behind them as there is behind Viktor’s. She looks tired, fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

She starts to say something in that same language, but catches sight of Jayce and quickly switches to English.

“You said you would be back by nine, hmm? And what time is it?”

“Nine-thirty, Máma,” Viktor answers dutifully, “I’m sorry I’m late. We were talking to Jayce’s mom. She said that he can come with us.” He tugs on their joined hands. Jayce freezes, mind going blank. He’s understandably nervous. Despite the circumstances, Viktor is still his partner, introducing him to his mother for the first time.

Jayce is usually great with parents; they love him. But in those cases, he wasn’t pretending to be a child in a memory construct, and he wasn’t mated for life due to quirks of alien biology. No pressure.

He clears this throat and reaches out with his other hand. “Uh, hi, Ms. Sokolov. I’m Jayce.”

Anna Sokolov’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she shakes his hand. “Jayce. You’re a serious young man. How did you meet my Viktor?”

“Walking — around,” Jayce answers awkwardly. Viktor fixes him with an unimpressed look.

“He’s new here,” Viktor mercifully tells her, “He liked my boat, and he likes stars a lot, too. His mom told me to give you this.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a folded piece of paper. A letter. Anna takes the letter and reads it, eyebrows lifting. Then she smiles and looks at Jayce.

“Your mother is a very kind woman. I’ll have to pay her a visit tomorrow and thank her.”

“For what?” Viktor asks, confusion evident in his tone.

“For bringing you a new friend,” she says in a teasing tone, “Go get your things, and we can go.”

For a moment, Viktor really looks like a child again. He rushes forward and hugs her. “Thank you, Máma” he says, voice muffled, face buried in her clothes.

Anna looks a little startled, but quickly returns the hug, holding him close. “What's wrong, my love?” she asks. She carefully smooths his hair back and places a gentle kiss on his hairline.

Time stops around them. Anna stands frozen in place. So is Rio, curiously looking on.

Jayce startles. “Viktor, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Just... just a little longer.” Viktor says. He hasn’t moved, arms around his mother’s still form.

“Take your time, I’ll be here,” Jayce replies softly.

The apartment is very, very small. Someone has taken a regular apartment and further subdivided it. There are only two rooms: the kitchen, and the main room they stand in. A large bed sits in one corner of the room. A smaller bed sits in another, partitioned by blue curtains hanging from the ceiling, covered with tools, random machinery parts, and clothes — Viktor was clearly in the middle of packing.

The main room is painted a cheerful goldenrod. Though small, it is neat and tidy. There are shelves mounted on the walls and filled with books, many of them on Pandora. Each panel of the grimy window is partially covered with a neatly-aligned square of paper. A child has drawn crude little pictures on them. Sunlight shines through, giving the room an ethereal glow. On the windowsill sits a pile of books and a little herb garden: mint, basil, marjoram, and thyme.

Yes, Jayce thinks, there is a lot of love in this room.

Jayce thinks about the after. Years passed between Anna Sokolov’s death and Viktor’s departure to Pandora. He wonders if Viktor was lonely, coming home to an empty apartment. He wonders if the light left this room. A picture starts to form that leads to the man he knows today: a lonely childhood, a lonely adolescence, and a lonely adulthood. Something painful coils in his chest.

Eventually, Viktor resumes time and steps away, eyes a little red. “I’m just happy you’re letting me take a friend. You wouldn’t let me take Rio.”

Anna strokes Viktor’s hair. “Rio is a cat who couldn’t care less about the stars. She’d run away and join the mountain cats.”

“She’d become their leader,” Viktor insists, “She’d be the toughest of them all.”

Anna agrees, smiling, and tells Viktor finish packing. They need to leave soon. Jayce helps Viktor stuff the last of this things into his backpack. Anna takes two bags sitting by the door, and they’re off.

They get on a train, then a bus, then another train. Outside, the giant masses of buildings become sparser and sparser, until they’re passing small towns and open fields. The sky slowly shifts from a smoggy gray to a cheerful blue.

Anna falls asleep. Viktor stares out of the window, Jayce sitting between them.

“You okay?” Jayce asks him quietly.

Viktor doesn’t answer at first. Then he whispers, “I don’t know. I’m happy I get to see my mother again, but — I also feel so sad.”

Jayce thinks back to their first experiment with the NeuralCore, when he saw his own parents. “Yeah. I felt that way, too.”

Viktor trembles. “I understand it now, why people shouldn’t live in the past. There’s no one here. The present is the only thing that’s truly malleable.”

Jayce takes his hand and squeezes it. “I’m here with you. You wanted to show this to me, right? That’s the purpose of the NeuralCore. To help people understand each other.”

Viktor turns to him, gaze uncertain. “What if they get stuck in the past?”

“What do you mean?”

Viktor sighs and leans his head against Jayce’s shoulder. “They could use it to relive the past over and over again, until they neglect the present.”

Jayce takes a moment to think. “You can’t control what people do. They already get stuck in the past without the NeuralCore. You just have to trust that people will do the right thing.”

“They didn’t do the right thing when it came to Earth,” Viktor scoffs and gestures out the window, “Look at it now. A wasteland that dreams of green.”

“It’s people, V. Individuals, just trying to live their lives. Maybe you’re right about humanity in general. But you can trust those around you to try and do the right thing. I mean —” Jayce pauses and takes a deep breath, before continuing, “Like the bio-battery. People have gone on to do wonderful things with it, and changed the world. I mean, look at what it did here.”

There is a smile in the corner of Viktor’s mouth. “I know. I was the one who implemented it on Pandora.”

Jayce laughs quietly, careful not to wake Anna, still asleep next to them. “So it was you. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You said you didn’t want anything more to do with it,” Viktor shrugs, “I thought your design was brilliant when I first saw it, like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He laughs when Jayce flushes pink. “Maybe you’re right — about people.”

Jayce smiles at him, and Viktor tentatively smiles back. They lean against each other and look out the window, watching the countryside pass by.

An hour later, Viktor reaches over and shakes his mother’s arm. “Máma. We’re almost there.”

Anna wakes with a small sound, looking startled. It’s so similar to the way Viktor wakes up that Jayce has to stifle his giggle. “Oh dear. I almost slept right through the stop,” she says, looking around.

“It’s okay. I wanted to let you rest,” Viktor says.

When they reach their stop, they step out of the train and onto the platform, then walk half a mile uphill. Anna is careful to check with Viktor along the way, making sure they stop to take a break every once in a while. She kneels to stretch out his leg and massage it, checking for soreness, despite Viktor’s token complaints.

“Mrs. Dvorak down the hall told me this is the best place for stargazing,” she tells them, sighing, “I haven’t been able to see the stars for so long.”

“Máma is a scientist,” Viktor informs Jayce proudly, exactly like a child showing off their parent. He can be such a dedicated thespian. Jayce is sad he can’t tease Viktor about it in front of his mother. He tries to look like an impressed child instead of being seconds away from chortling, but from the stern expression on Viktor's face, he’s not falling for it.

Anna smiles. “I haven’t been a scientist for a long time.”

“Once a scientist, always a scientist,” Viktor assures her.

It is nearly sunset by the time they arrive at the field on a hill. They can see the land stretching below them for miles. There, a lone tree sits, branches swaying in the breeze. Anna lays out a large blanket under the tree, and unwraps sandwiches for them. Jayce and Viktor aren’t hungry, being mental constructions inside the NeuralCore, but they eat them anyway.

Viktor lays back and watches the clouds. Jayce joins him, while Anna reads her book.

Night soon descends. Anna bundles all three of them up in piles of blankets, pours them hot tea from a large thermos, and shows them the stars. The celestial sphere shines clear and bright above them. She points to the constellations and names them: Andromeda, Casseopoeia, and others of the Perseus family.

With her soft voice, she tells them the tales: How the mother of Andromeda, Casseopoiea, angered the gods and was forced to tie her daughter to a rock, as a sacrifice to the Great Sea Serpent. How Perseus, slayer of the Gorgon Medusa, swept in to rescue her and made her his wife.

Jayce listens, and truly feels like a child again. He remembers his mother reading to him his children’s books of great adventures and quests. He wanted to be one of those heroes in the stories when he grew up, wanted to help others. And he did just that, he remembers suddenly, cozy and warm despite the chill of the night, yawning and leaning against Viktor. He went on adventures and helped people, too, he thinks sleepily.

He can see why Viktor wanted to show him this, why it’s his favorite memory.

Sometime later, he wakes up (and being able to sleep in the NeuralCore — how unusual, and what a strange idea. Viktor will love this discovery) realizing he dozed off. His partner is fast asleep beside him, a pile of blankets and mussed-up brown hair. Light is starting to creep around the edges of the dark sky. The grass is starting to dew with the morning.

At the edge of the large blanket, Anna is still awake, reading by lantern-light. Jayce gets up and goes to sit next to her. She smiles at Jayce when she notices him awake. Her hair glimmers where the light touches her, her eyes a dark amber.

“You didn’t sleep?” Jayce asks quietly, careful not to wake Viktor.

She shakes her head. “Have to watch out for bandits.” She says, winking. He flushes and settles further into his blankets.

“Thank you for letting me come, too,” he says softly, “Viktor, he seems lonely.” He realizes, too late, that this might be a strange thing for a child to say.

Anna seems to take this in stride. She looks over at Viktor with a hint of a sadness in the corners of her lips. “He’s such a bright child. He’s just like any other kid, but other children — they think he’s different. I’m glad you decided to be his friend.”

“Oh, it’s — it’s nothing. He’s a good friend. We work well together.”

“I can see that. Were you also a different child, Jayce?”

Were? “I’m just a normal kid. My dad was an engineer — he encouraged me to look at the world and try to figure out how things worked, rather than accept things at face value. I’m — I want to be an engineer like him when I grow up.”

In the glowing lantern light, Jayce can see something thoughtful settle over Anna’s face. She closes her book and sets it aside, looking up and taking in the stars, before looking back at Jayce.

“May I ask you for a favor, Jayce?” she says.

“Of course.”

“Will you promise to take care of my son?”

“What?”

“Promise me that whatever happens, you’ll look out for him.”

Jayce freezes. Anna Sokolov has only just met him, but she’s asking him something far too serious for a child. There’s no way she could know the truth — was she somehow able to access the rest of Viktor’s memories? Is the NeuralCore faulty?

Anna’s eyes are clear and piercing. “You must be from the future,” she says, “I overheard some of your conversation on the train.”

Oh. So that’s what it is. She thinks they're visiting from the future, and doesn't know they're actually in a memory.

“Uh, yeah — we are,” he replies.

Anna’s eyes are kind. “How is my Viktor? In the future.”

Now that’s something he can answer. “He’s brave, smart, and kind, ma’am. The bravest person I know. And he looks a lot like you.”

“Of course, that’s how genetics work.” They both laugh at this. The tension in Jayce’s body eases. Of course a kind woman would raise a kind man.

Jayce hesitates. Something leaden settles in his stomach. “You’re not worried? About what this means?” That Anna is not around in the future.

Anna shakes her head. “The future is immutable and unchangeable. A closed-loop process. I worry, but I don’t think I have to be afraid.”

“Why not?”

Anna grins, and Jayce can see where Viktor gets his wry sense of humor. “Because you’re there, after all. Will you promise me to look after him? It’ll put this old woman’s mind at ease.”

Jayce doesn’t need to think about it for a second. He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, Viktor shifts behind them, starting to wake up.

“Good morning, my love,” Anna says to Viktor, opening her arms for a hug. Blinking sleep from his eyes, Viktor stumbles over to her. His hair is mussed, and his eyes are droopy. Jayce watches as Anna holds him close. His heart aches as he thinks of his own mother, far far away from him, where he cannot reach. But unlike Anna, his mother is still alive to hear him. He thinks of his own guilt, and realizes that, in the large scheme of things, it does not matter what he has done. His mother will be happy to hear from him anyway.

Anna is whispering something into Viktor's ear, and Viktor is nodding and looking up at her. “I liked it a lot, Máma,” he says, “Thank you for bringing me to the stars.”

She looks at the both of them. “Will you two be leaving now?” she asks them.

Viktor frowns. “What do you mean, Máma? We’re going home with you.”

“She knows we’re from the future,” Jayce tells him regretfully, knowing he'll understand what he really means.

Viktor freezes. “I... see,” he says hesitantly. Jayce sees his fingers twitch, and the calculations being made behind his eyes, but time does not stop. “Is that... okay?”

The sky is starting to lighten. The stars are starting to fade out, one by one. Their time here is over.

There is a great sadness behind Viktor's eyes, one that speaks of the many things he wants to tell his mother: all the things he achieved in the time since she was gone, the long long years of what must have been solitude in the darkness. But she’s not real; he can’t really tell her anything.

“Of course it is. I’m so happy to see you,” Anna soothes, “But the past is no place to linger. It is a part of us, but only the present and future can be changed. Heal from the past to protect your future, but do not get lost in it.”

There is a stiffness in Viktor’s shoulders when he answers. “I understand. Thank you, Máma.” He clutches his blanket tighter around him.

“And you’re not alone where you come from. Jayce must be your husband.”

Viktor coughs. Jayce splutters and tries to correct her. “N-no, we’re, uh.” What is he supposed to tell her? It’s worse, actually. We’re mated for life in the eyes of Eywa?

“We’re partners,” Viktor mercifully finishes for him. He’s blushing, unable to make eye contact with either of them.

Anna nods. “I see. He is a good man. And so cute, too!” Before Jayce can react, she reaches out and lightly pinches his cheek.

“Aghhh!”

Viktor's laughter bursts out in little giggles. He clutches at his stomach as Jayce pouts.

Jayce knows that this Anna Sokolov isn’t real, just a projection inside of Viktor's memories, but he’s having a hard time remembering that when shes’s right in front of him, smiling in Viktor’s charming manner. It’s really, really unfair. He’s just a little boy right now, and it feels like the times when his aunties cooed over his cutely round face and pinched his cheeks. He fights the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands.

He remembers what Anna asked of him, before Viktor woke up. She isn’t real. But she’s still Viktor’s mother, and she asked him for a reason.

“I promise. I’ll take care of him,” Jayce solemnly tells her. Anna smiles, her entire face alight with joy.

Viktor stops laughing. “Jayce — what are you talking about?” He looks to his mother for answers, but she just shakes her head.

“Just making sure you’ll be alright. That you have someone who loves you just as much as I do.”

Viktor pauses. “He does.” He shifts over and takes Jayce’s hand. His grip is steady and strong. They look at each other with the eyes of children, but behind them sits the knowledge of their entire lives.

Jayce disconnected from the NeuralCore with no shortage of nerves. He had left Viktor to speak with his mother alone. His eyes were closed, muscles in his face twitching every so often, as if he were in the middle of a dream.

Only a few minutes passed before Viktor opened his eyes. Jayce placed a tentative hand on his back. “Viktor? Are you okay?”

Viktor looked up at Jayce. He slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t... I don’t think so.”

“Do you want to stay linked, or…?”

Viktor grasped at Jayce’s arm. “I think I... just need some time to think.”

Jayce nodded. “Okay. Lie down. I’ll lock the doors.” He made sure Viktor was comfortable, then pulled out the transport communicator and sent out a quick message to Vi.

When Viktor rose from the Link Unit, Jayce was already there to help him up.

“You did so well,” Jayce murmured, “Let me take care of you, okay?” He handed Viktor his crutch and helped him stand. Viktor had agreed to bring his human body back to health, but it hadn’t been for very long.

They slowly walked down the hall to Viktor’s room. Jayce made sure to press his body against Viktor’s side, making sure he was always aware of his presence. He could feel the bond thrumming between them, comforting and whole.

There was a package of hot food lying on the floor next to Viktor’s door. Jayce took it and slid Viktor’s badge to open the door. Once they were inside, Viktor gave a heavy, empty sigh and nudged even further into Jayce’s space. Jayce quickly set the package down on the desk and wrapped his arms around Viktor’s waist, kissing his temple.

“Let’s eat something first, okay?”

Viktor nodded.

The food was still warm, Vi having run it down once Jayce sent the message. He made a note to properly thank her later.

While Viktor was eating, Jayce tried to get up and put away the equipment lying around the room, but Viktor stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Viktor asked, raising a brow.

“Uh, helping?”

Viktor made a noise and pushed Jayce’s own plate towards him. “Eat. Don’t think I haven’t also noticed you not eating enough. Taking care of each other goes both ways.”

“Don’t use my own logic against me,” Jayce complained as he started on his own food.

Viktor ate slowly, contemplative. “So. What did you think of our experiment?”

“Well, there’s the scientific, then the personal.” Jayce chewed as he thought. “Scientifically, it was interesting to see what we could and could not influence inside the memory. Personally, well... I’m glad I got to meet your mother. She was a kind woman who obviously loved you a lot.”

Viktor nodded seriously, but amusement was hiding in the corner of his mouth. “I saw you. Blushing at her.”

Caught. Jayce spluttered indignantly, “She looked like you!”

Viktor cracked the first smile since they had unlinked from their Avatars. “She did. I didn’t realize just how much. It’s fascinating, how much the will of the people who’ve loved us still works through our memories.”

“I wonder how accurate they are, compared to the real person.”

“They seemed unbiased. I remember my mother as someone strong and unrelenting. But when I saw her in the memory... I never realized, as a child, just how tired she always was. I always remembered her as someone with infinite amounts of energy. But I guess she was just doing her best to raise me.”

“She did a wonderful job.”

“Yes, she did.” Viktor went silent for a moment. “It felt so real, like I was reliving it all over again. I didn’t want to leave her.” He shivered and set down his plate. “We’ve done it, Jayce — the NeuralCore is complete. But why don’t I feel like I’ve achieved anything?”

“You have, V. It might take a while to sink in. And you just went through something very, very difficult. I’m proud of you. We can work out the finer details later. Let’s just celebrate what we’ve accomplished.”

Viktor grunted. They sat in silence, finishing their food. Jayce hooked his foot over Viktor’s. Viktor rolled his eyes at him, but didn’t move.

Later, as Jayce was tidying up, he voiced his thoughts out loud. “I think —” he started, as he made sure all their equipment was properly put away, “I think I’m going to record a message for my mom.”

Viktor paused from where he was typing notes into his tablet. “I think that’s a good idea, Jayce. If you’d like, I can be there when you record the message.”

Jayce smiled. “I just have to think about what I’m going to say first.”

“I think your mother would be glad to hear from you, no matter what you say.”

“You’re probably right. I have a feeling Cait is filling her in.”

Viktor hummed. “That's likely. Write down what you want to say first.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him. Jayce found his own journal and sat next to him, pressing himself into his side until they were aligned from shoulder to feet.

Jayce tried writing his message as a letter, but found it difficult. What words could he say to his mother, whom he essentially abandoned? His mother wasn’t alone — she was close with their extended family — but Jayce was her only son. As he tried to write, doubts entered his mind. First there was the matter of apologizing. Then, there was the matter of introducing Viktor — his partner and mate. Mate. Now that was a word.

He was staring down at his journal, filled with half-started words and phrases, when Viktor finished and put away his tablet.

“Hmm,” Viktor observed Jayce’s incomplete work, deciphering and gleaning something from his messy scrawl, something he was exceptionally talented at. “I think you’ll have to introduce what a ‘mate’ is, or she’ll think you’ve gone on some spiritual journey. Twin flames. Soulmates.”

Jayce flushed at the word soulmates. “Haven’t I?” he asked blankly.

Viktor considered this. “Fair,” he allowed. He leaned his head on Jayce’s shoulder and watched in silence as Jayce tried to scribble anything resembling a sentence.

“Thank you, Jayce,” he said suddenly, “You —” he took a deep breath, before continuing, “I feel whole now. Thanks to you.” He squirmed in obvious discomfort, then settled. Viktor rarely confessed these things out loud. They were usually whispered confessions while they lay in the dark, or conveyed through tsaheylu.

Jayce swallowed. He closed his journal and placed it to the side. His hand found Viktor’s in the sheets and held it reverently. “You were never broken, Viktor. Your strength, your drive, your intelligence, your kindness. Your everything. I see all of it.”

With his other hand, Jayce reached up and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into Viktor’s face. “You believed I could still do good in the world, even after what I did. Maybe you did the same for me.”

Viktor tilted his head up. He was slightly flushed, but there was a challenge in his golden eyes — the most coveted of minerals, the center of a flame, the sweetness of a flower. “The same goes for you,” he replied, “You were always who you should be, Jayce Talis.”

The bond thrummed thickly between them, content.

“Okay — yep, mhm.” Jayce leaned back and pretended to look over his diagram. “You said you wanted the receivers at wider intervals?”

Tom, the head of communications, nodded and pointed to a place on the diagram. “Starting here.”

They both looked up at the tall, wide pole standing in front of them. Caitlyn was on the other side, engaged in deep conversation with the rest of the communications team.

They were in the forest, the base still in sight through the thick trees. It was a hot day. Jayce pulled at the collar of his shirt as he tried to think of a polite way to explain to Tom that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“So,” he started, “The signal won’t be improved by spreading the receivers wider. It’ll actually increase the budget, because we’ll have to recut the inserts and re-calculate our entire configuration.”

Tom frowned. “So how can we improve the signal?”

“I guess that’s what we’ll be figuring it out,” Jayce sighed. He picked up the diagram and placed it under his arm, heading over to Caitlyn. She had just concluded her conversation, and was looking toward Jayce warily.

“Yeah, I know,” Jayce told her, “Over budget.”

Caitlyn let out a heaving sigh as they walked toward the other pole further in the forest. Her rifle bounced against her back as she moved. The rest of her four-man security team and the communications team went ahead of them. “I just don’t get it. They get bigger and bigger ideas every time we talk to them.”

Jayce scratched his head. “Scope creep. They get too excited by all of the possibilities and forget to focus on the original goal.”

“Vi says I should just put my foot down. But Tom has a lot of influence over the base’s other projects. I don’t want to piss him off.”

Jayce made a noncommittal noise. He didn’t envy Caitlyn’s position. They continued walking, the base fading from sight.

“So, looks like you worked everything out with Viktor?” Caitlyn asked casually.

Jayce stopped. “What do you mean?”

Caitlyn scoffed and gave him a light punch on the arm. “Oh, please. You’ve been walking around all morning with that stupid smile on your face like it’s Christmas morning. Honestly, you’re even worse than Vi.”

Had he? Jayce blushed. “Yeah, we figured things out. And the NeuralCore is finally finished. It really works. We tested it, and I got to meet his mom.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened with interest. “Really? How —”

Ahead of them, several shots rang through the forest.

Caitlyn immediately had her rifle in her hands. Her eyes became serious and focused. “Jayce, stay behind me. Follow me and don’t make a sound.” She reached into her holster and handed Jayce her pistol.

They crept as quietly as they could through the foliage. Jayce’s heart pounded. They had only heard several shots, but no one had pinged Caitlyn’s communicator. Something was wrong. Jayce really, really wished he were linked to his Avatar right now.

The clearing where the other communication pole was located was only five or so meters in front of them. Jayce heard voices speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Caitlyn positioned herself behind a tree bordering the clearing, and motioned for Jayce to crouch next to her. Together, they peeked out.

Jayce’s breath stuttered in surprise. There were professionally-armed men, ten at least, pointing their guns at the security and communications team. One of Caitlyn’s people lay on the ground. He had his hands pressed to a bleeding wound on his lower leg and was groaning lowly. The rest of them had their hands up, clearly outnumbered and outgunned. They were outfitted for wild creature attacks, not for other humans.

Caitlyn and Jayce retreated behind the tree again. Caitlyn’s face was grim. She shouldered her rifle and motioned for them to leave.

“What?” Jayce whispered, barely audible, “We can’t just leave them!”

Caitlyn shook her head. Jayce knew what the look in her eyes meant. We can’t save them, Jayce.

Jayce had never been in a situation like this before. He was a scientist, raised in a peaceful life, completely unused to violence. His adrenaline spiked. His breathing was ragged. He shook.

“Okay,” he whispered, knowing that Caitlyn was the one with more experience between the two of them. “How —”

“Hands in the air,” said a voice from behind them, “Carefully, now.”

Caitlyn cursed. They turned and saw a large man standing there, gun pointed directly at them. He had a full mustache and beard, shaved sides of his head, hair rising to a point.

“Rictus,” Caitlyn said as she held her hands up. Jayce did the same. “Why are you here?”

Rictus grinned. “Ambessa wants to see you.” He whistled, and two of his armed men broke off from the main group and walked towards him.

“Ambessa?” Caitlyn repeated incredulously. “She’s here?”

“Never left,” Rictus assured her, “And who is this?”

“...Jayce Talis,” Jayce replied, trying to keep his voice steady, and failing miserably.

“Talis,” Rictus repeated thoughtfully, then gave a loud, gruff laugh, “I know of you. Ambessa will be wanting to speak with you, too.” He motioned to one of his men, who approached Jayce.

“Wait,” Jayce protested, a deep dread welling up from inside of him, ‘Wait —”

The man hit him directly in the head with the butt of his gun. Jayce reeled in shock. The ground rose up to meet him. His head rang and his vision spun as he lay on the ground. He struggled to make out what was going on around him. He heard Caitlyn yelling, but he couldn’t make out much else other than the armed man standing above him, the end of his gun poised for another strike.

Just as it made contact, a loud, wailing scream echoed inside of him, and he knew that it was Viktor’s. His vision stuttered out, and he knew no more.

Chapter Text

“Are you going to be calm now?”

“No,” Viktor retorted, but he relaxed minutely into the gurney he was strapped into. Shame was starting to win over the rage. Just what the hell was he doing?

Ekko rubbed a hand over his face and turned to Mel. “That's probably as good as it's going to get.” He turned back to Viktor, “Just what the hell do you think you were doing, establishing a mating bond with someone you've only known for a year? You know better, Viktor!”

“It appears to be an unusually deep bond,” Dr. Singed mused from next to them, “Perhaps it was not as ill-advised as we think.”

Mel threw up her hands. “I don't have time for this. I have a meeting with the Board in fifteen minutes. Is he ready or not?” She had stray hairs sticking out from her normally perfectly-coiffed hairstyle.

Less than an hour ago, Viktor had been working in the main lab, as he normally did. He had suddenly cried out, insisted that something had happened to Jayce, and demanded assistance from his associates nearby. When he had been met only with confusion and bewilderment, the normally calm and composed man had flown into a rage: smashing vials, upending desks, and scaring the shit out of Mike the lab assistant (again).

The next thing Viktor remembered, he was strapped to a gurney with Ekko and Sky hanging over him, Sky saying, “Maybe it’s the mating bond,” the absolute traitor. Ekko had cried out, “The what?” and everything had devolved into questions that Viktor didn’t hear, as he was too busy trying to get out of the gurney and find Jayce help Jayce help mate NOW.

Ekko had been interrupted by the flashing alarms overhead, signaling a basewide lockdown. Elora, Mel’s assistant, had thankfully sent the main lab an explanatory message, informing them that Caitlyn Kiraman, Jayce Talis, and members of the security and communications team had disappeared from their last known location. Only one person had been left at the scene, shot and bleeding from the leg, but thankfully alive. He had told them what had happened — Rictus, Ambessa, all of it. It seemed that the group didn’t care who knew about their plans, and that didn’t bode well for anyone.

Mel had summoned Viktor, but the main lab informed her that he was in no state to respond, which had led to Mel herself storming into the lab to find Dr. Singed injecting Viktor with medication to calm his agitation.

Which led them to this moment: Viktor, in the gurney; Ekko and Mel, fuming; Dr. Singed and Sky, looking on. Everyone else had already cleared out of the main lab.

Viktor’s bond was responding to the realization that cooperation, not rage, was going to get him closer to his mate. The anger faded. Viktor took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I think I'm okay,” Viktor gasped, “I apologize. I wasn't myself.”

“No shit,” Ekko said, “Let me guess — you didn’t think the mating bond could affect human brains. You were wrong.”

“I now understand that the practical outweighed the theoretic,” Viktor allowed. He squirmed. “May I be released now?” Ekko begrudgingly started unbuckling the straps, Sky stepping in to help.

“I need you to focus,” Mel told him, “These people are hostages. My mother will no doubt be sending her demands shortly. We need to determine our next course of action.”

Viktor grunted as he took his crutch and stood. “Your instincts were correct. Ambessa never left Pandora in the first place, clandestinely gathering support all this time.”

“We kicked most of her old followers back to Earth years ago,” Ekko said. He cursed. “She must be holding Base Delta hostage.”

“Not quite,” Mel replied, “She undoubtedly needs their support. If they were hostages, they would revolt.” Her expression turned grim. “What she needs is for our base to surrender. With us out of the way, she could spread her influence unchecked.”

Ekko shook his head. “The Board will push for surrender, I just know it. Cassandra Kiramman’s daughter is a hostage. That’s already one person on the Board who’ll vote for it.”

At this, Mel was silent. “I’m sorry, Viktor” she said suddenly, unable to meet Viktor’s eyes, “If I had figured it out sooner —”

“Don’t. We saw her get on the ship with our own eyes. You couldn’t have known. Don’t blame yourself,” Viktor told her firmly.

The mood in the Operations Center was... palpable, to say the least. When the group arrived, Elora immediately took Mel aside, speaking urgently to her in a low voice.

The room itself consisted of a main projection table surrounded by smaller tables. Viktor took quick stock of the people present: Ekko, the Na’vi liaison and too famous not to be there; regular department leadership, which included Dr. Singed; Vander and Silco, who represented the base resident’s concerns; and several guards, one of which was Vi.

Viktor’s leg ached from the quick pace he had used to keep up with the others. Nonetheless, he made his way toward Vi, who looked ready to march out of the room and rescue the hostages herself. She was gritting her teeth and breathing heavily, her hands strained white where she clutched at her gun. They looked at each other, sharing in the same agony; both of their partners were hostages.

Vi shook her head and said in a low tone, “I should have been there with Cait. I shouldn’t have left her alone.” Her eyes kept scanning the room, looking for possible threats.

Viktor placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll do everything I can,” he assured her. Vi nodded stiffly, and Viktor went to take his seat.

Mel raised her voice, “Calling the meeting to order. The remaining members of the Board are on the line. I understand that this is a difficult situation for all of us. As Chairman, I ask that we refrain from questions and comments until the end of the Board’s discussion. Thank you.”

Instead of listening to her brief the others on the situation at hand, Viktor focused inward to see if he could glean anything else from his bond with Jayce. He had known the instant Jayce had been captured. A scream of distress had reverberated through his mind, consuming all other thought, until he could think of nothing else but going to Jayce’s aid.

The bond was calm now, but Viktor was consumed with worry nonetheless. Jayce was in grave danger. Ambessa was not particularly merciful, and Jayce’s status as Viktor’s partner put a target on his back.

Viktor realized that Mel had suddenly stopped speaking, and looked up to see her conversing with Elora. Her face remained composed as she nodded, but her hands clutched together, kneading at the skin. As she cleared her throat, her eyes met Viktor’s, then darted away.

“Base Delta is contacting us. Standby,” she informed the room, which erupted in agitation. She turned towards the large monitor mounted on the wall, which flickered on to reveal a seated figure.

“Ambessa Medarda,” Mel greeted stiffly, “Present us with your demands, and proof of the hostage’s wellbeing.”

Silence. Then Ambessa chuckled lowly and stood up from her seat. She smiled. “Mel. How are you, my child? Doing well?”

Fuck. She had fully recovered. A chill ran down Viktor’s spine.

Mel was doing a better job at hiding her shock, “I see you’re doing well, Mother. May I ask what you’re still doing on Pandora?”

“Same as always, my dear. Saving the human race by preparing Pandora for future colonization.” Outrage spread through the room. Ekko jumped up from his seat and glared at the monitor, fists clenched.

Mel motioned for silence. “Is that your demand? To have us assist you in this endeavor?”

Ambessa laughed. “Of course not. Your base is the head of operations — too loyal to the PCI’s vision. I want you gone. You have twenty-four hours to plan your exit from Earth, and to send all of your leadership on your base, including the people in this room —” There were shouts. “To Base Delta for further instructions.”

“Or else?” Mel challenged.

Ambessa smiled sharply. “Or else I release all of the hostages into the forest with one mask. They can fight to the death for it.”

Jayce. Viktor’s chest filled with cold dread, heavy and smothering.

Ambessa now leaned forward, her eyes keen, “Is my dear Viktor there?” Everyone’s attention in the room snapped to him.

Viktor had been prepared for this. “I’m here, Ambessa,” he said, willing his voice not to shake. He took his crutch in hand and went to stand next to Mel.

Ambessa’s eyes sharpened when he came into view. “Viktor. You look well. I do remember that... favor you did for me. Make sure you’re included. We have much to discuss.”

“I will,” Viktor answered, standing as straight as his spine would allow, ignoring the dull burst of pain in his lower back.

Ambessa nodded, looking satisfied, and addressed Mel. “One last thing, before we conclude — I expect that you will try to ask the planet for help. I strongly encourage you not to. Good day.” The call ended, and the screen went dark.

There was a second of silence in the room, then absolute pandemonium.

Mel finally had to yell over the crowd. “Enough! Stay silent, or I will have you escorted out!" When the room finally quieted, she addressed the Board members, both in person and on the line, “To the Board — it is clear that we have two options.”

The line crackled. “You know what I’m going to say, Chairman, so we’ll skip the obvious,” the voice of Cassandra Kiramman said, “Find a way to rescue the hostages safely, or prepare to leave Pandora.”

“The hostages should be our highest priority,” the voice of Professor Heimerdinger agreed, and the discussion continued.

When the meeting finally ended, Mel, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Vi, Dr. Singed, and Viktor were left in the room, along with Elora. In the past, they had helped Mel oust Ambessa from her position as the previous Chairman of the Board.

Ekko was the first to speak. “What’s going on? Last time I saw Ambessa, she couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk — and you two,” he pointed at Mel and Viktor, “Wouldn’t tell anyone exactly what you did, even though we put all of our lives on the line flushing out her supporters.”

Mel sighed, rubbing at her brow. “That’s not important. What’s important is the hostages —”

“Bullshit. When Ambessa became Chairman, she was pushing RDA’s old line — strip Pandora for resources. Now she’s seriously gunning for mass human colonization? We need to have all the facts first before making any moves.”

Mel opened her mouth to speak, but Viktor put up a hand to stop her. “I can tell them, Mel. It’s alright,” he said quietly. They needed everyone on board to save Jayce, Caitlyn, and the rest of the hostages.

Rubbing at his brow, Viktor took a seat and started his explanation, “Years ago, Ambessa was already privately pushing for mass human colonization. Mel had overheard one of her conversations, but she could never find further proof. Ambessa was very careful. So Mel came to me.”

Realization began to dawn on Ekko’s face. “Your prototype.”

Viktor nodded. “My prototype to the NeuralCore. It was built with an interface for humans, and recorded memories the user focused on. I had already tested it on myself without any ill effects. Mel had saved my life by convincing one of Earth’s premiere cardiothoracic surgeons to remotely perform surgery on my lungs. I felt indebted to her, you see. When she came to me asking for my advice, I knew how we could obtain the proof.”

“Memory extraction. Impressive,” Silco commented. He and Vander had been quietly sitting on the sidelines, merely observing the commotion around them. Together, the two of them had weathered many conflicts and crises on Pandora. They knew when to act, and when not to. Viktor had no doubt Silco was already weeding out possible spies on the base.

“Correct. The plan was to extract the memories from Ambessa while she slept and present them to the board. But I made a mistake — I didn’t account for the effect a forced extraction would have. It greatly damaged her nervous system. She lost the use of her legs, and could barely speak.”

Viktor remembered what had transpired that night. Mel had visited her mother and drugged her nightly drink. After Mel left and Ambessa had slipped into a forced sleep, Viktor had approached Rictus, who was guarding Ambessa’s door, claiming that she had been expecting him. Rictus hadn’t bothered to confirm with Ambessa, which would have ruined their plan, and let him inside. Mel had correctly predicted that Viktor matched Ambessa’s taste in men, and would not rouse suspicion — an uncomfortable but useful advantage.

“She was unconscious, so we didn’t know the extent of the damage until after we had sent the evidence to the Board. You know the rest. Ambessa’s loyalists tried to mount a defense, but were ineffective without her leadership, and we succeeded.”

Ekko frowned. “I always wondered why your Avatar was delayed. All Dr. Singed would tell me was that it was up to the Board.”

Viktor nodded. “Despite my assistance with Ambessa, the Board deemed my research dangerous, and my application for an Avatar was further delayed. The eventual decision was that I needed a partner to reign in my more... reckless tendencies.” And years later, that partner had been Jayce. All along, it was Jayce — who turned out to be just as reckless as Viktor.

“I tried, Viktor,” Mel said, “But I was outvoted every time.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Viktor assured her, “My actions and consequences are my own. I would do it again if I had to.”

Ekko looked at him for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Well, not sure what else I can say to that. Thanks — for telling us.”

Mel nodded and addressed the group, “Well? Any ideas you’d like to share?”

Vander stepped forward. “From what I’ve figured, we can’t let Ambessa attack our base directly. We aren’t a military base anymore — there are families here. After freeing the hostages, we must immediately attack Base Delta.”

“A solid plan, but the problem lies with the hostages. We don’t know how many people are guarding them, and where they’re located in the base. My mother will be expecting us to attempt a rescue.”

“I can help with that,” Powder’s voice said. A cabinet opened, and she uncurled herself and stepped out. No one reacted with surprise; they were all used to Powder’s antics.

Vander sighed. “Powder, we had a deal. You can go anywhere you want, except for the operations offices. Weren’t the vents already blocked off?”

“I didn’t break in. I walked right in and took my seat inside the cabinet. It’s not my fault no one told me to leave,” Powder replied matter-of-factly.

“How long have you been in there?” Vi asked, looking seriously impressed.

“Since Viktor screamed.”

“In the lab?” Viktor asked, “Powder, that was hours ago.”

“Yup.” Powder stretched and went to sit next to her fathers, hoisting herself onto the table. Silco, smirking, patted her shoulder in paternal approval.

Mel cleared her throat. “Powder can locate the hostages,” she said, “But my mother will have predicted possible strategies and prepared accordingly. It may be impossible to find a way into Base Delta and free the hostages without anyone noticing.”

“They’re not in the base,” Viktor said suddenly.

“What?” Mel asked. Everyone in the room turned to look at him.

“They’re not in the base,” he repeated with absolute certainty.

“And you know this how?” Ekko asked.

Viktor stood. “Call up the map. Terrain only, no landmarks or names.”

Elora pressed several buttons. A 3D representation of the area around them appeared on the center table. Viktor walked around the entire table several times, carefully observing the entire map. The others watched him in silence. The only sounds were Viktor’s footsteps and the tap-tap-tap of his crutch on the floor.

Viktor stopped and closed his eyes, listening to the bond. Where do you want me to go? Viktor thought. Show me the way.

Mel coughed. “I’m sorry to say this, Viktor, but this may be a waste of time. There are kilometers upon kilometers of forest. Your own search for RDA waste took months to complete, even with the Na’vi’s help. How can you be so sure —”

“Here.” Viktor pointed to a spot on the map, some fifteen kilometers away from their base. “The hostages are here. Show me the landmarks.”

Elora pressed another button. Red markers appeared, overlaying the map. They denoted the bases, outposts, and field stations in the area.

“Holy shit,” Vi whispered, “Viktor’s psychic.”

A red dot labeled “Outpost 4” had appeared exactly where he was pointing. Everyone crowded around him, staring at that red dot.

“Fascinating. Human drivers are usually unaware of their mating bond while in their human body,” Dr. Singed hummed, tapping his fingers on the table. “Yours is unusually strong — perhaps it’s due to experimentation with your NeuralCore. Or perhaps something else.”

Mel cracked her first smile since everything had started. “I take it back. This is wonderful. She won’t expect us to know where they are.”

Ekko frowned. “That doesn’t prove anything. We need to confirm the hostages are actually there before we commit. If they really are at the Outpost, then it splits our forces in two. We don’t have enough fighters for that.”

“Could part of our main force rescue the hostages, then proceed to Base Delta for the attack?” Mel asked.

“They’re too far apart. Unless they all ride Ikrans, the fighting will be done by the time they get there.”

Mel sighed. “Then could we ask for the Na’vi for help? Maybe the other bases?”

“I don’t think we should take that risk. Ambessa’s definitely watching, just waiting for us to mess up. That kind of movement from far away will tip her off before we can get into position.”

“What about Eywa? Is there a way for the planet to help without Ambessa noticing?”

Ekko looked like he was deep in thought. “Eywa could help, but she doesn’t always answer, and she’s kind of an all-or-nothing force. Her creatures don’t listen to orders, or wait for the best opportunity. Not to mention, that many creatures moving in a mass would be too obvious.”

One of Viktor’s theories suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. Though fragile, it solidified the more he turned it around in his head.

“I think I know what to do,” he said softly. Everyone stopped and looked at him. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Tell us anyway,” Ekko said.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re insane?” Ekko asked through Viktor’s earpiece.

“You have, many times,” Viktor replied, “But my results speak for themselves.”

Ekko and Viktor, linked to their Avatars, were riding their Ikrans to the Well of Souls. Thankfully, neither of their Avatars were currently located inside the base, and two Na’vi on Ikran were a normal sight, unlikely to arouse suspicion.

Viktor reached back to make sure his pack was still securely fastened. Inside was the NeuralCore, absolutely critical to their success.

Powder had confirmed the hostages were at Outpost 4, and was now on her way to Base Delta. They had decided to carry out the plan in two phases. For phase one, they were to rescue the hostages from the Outpost, then immediately commence phase two and attack Base Delta. At their base, the fighters were already assembled inside, ready to set out at a moment’s notice.

Ekko and Viktor soon approached the tall rings of stone that marked the Well of Souls. The Tree of Souls glowed like a beacon.

“This is too dangerous, Viktor,” Ekko said as they dismounted their Ikrans and approached the tree, “You may have the others convinced that it’s safe, but Dr. Singed and I have seen your research. You might not come back from this.”

Viktor removed the NeuralCore from his pack and cradled it in his arm. “We’ve already discussed this. It’s the only way to save Jayce.”

“And what am I supposed to say to him, if you don’t come out? That I let you do this?” Ekko demanded.

“You bear no responsibility for my actions. I’m uploading my memories to the planet. If you have him connect to the tree, they can explain everything.”

Before Ekko could protest further, Viktor took his queue in hand and connected to one of the tendrils hanging from the Tree of Souls. He closed his eyes as the connection flowed through him.

“Eywa,” he murmured, “I need to save my partner. I know you can see it in my memories, just — please, help me.”

When Viktor disconnected his queue and turned around, he saw that Ekko’s eyes were moist, his tail low to the ground. Something stuck in Viktor’s throat.

“You’re a good friend, and have been very kind to me. I know I only cause you problems,” Viktor told him with sobering regret.

Ekko huffed. “A lot of problems.” He walked forward and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t treat this like a goodbye. I’ve lost a lot of family. Don’t make me lose you, too.”

“I’ll try my best,” Viktor assured him. Though it may not be enough. When Ekko pulled away and nodded, Viktor took a deep breath and removed the recording device from his pack, turning it on.

“Test log tee-two-dash-zero-three. I will be attempting Neural Level 4, where I will connect to the planet itself with the NeuralCore. My objective is to access the planet’s neural network and gain control over Pandoran creatures.” And to save Jayce.

He paused. It finally hit him, just what he was about to do. The human mind wasn’t meant to stretch itself in this way. There was a chance he could become lost inside of Eywa, and never witness the fruits of his research.

With surprise, he realized he didn’t care. His research had once been his life’s dream. But now, as he stood there, he finally understood that Jayce was the only thing that mattered. Nothing else did — not even his own life.

There was only one way to save his partner, and Viktor made his decision freely and gladly. Closing his eyes, he felt the bond beat strong and steady inside of him.

Jayce could live without Viktor, but Viktor couldn’t live without him.

He cleared his throat and spoke into the recording device, “Session begins.”

Viktor set the NeuralCore under the tree and opened the glass casing. The NeuralCore, unencapsulated, floated upward until it made contact with one of the tree’s tendrils, where it stopped, attached itself, and began to glow.

“So far so good,” he murmured. He sat under the NeuralCore and held up the end of his queue, watching the tendrils spread out and attach to the surface. Viktor held his breath.

He’s standing in the plane between memories, inside of the NeuralCore. Galaxies swirl around him, and distant stars dot the void. Why is he here?

He senses something behind him and turns around, but can't quite figure out what he's looking at. A gigantic wall of light greets him, so bright it hurts to keep his eyes open. He squints, trying to make out its shape. That's when it descends. Before he can make a sound, it envelopes him and swallows him whole. Suddenly —

HE CAN FEEL EVERYTHING.

It starts in the cauldron of his mind. His axons tremble, then stretch into infinite space. Stars are born, then blink out in an instant. The last thought he has is Jayce, I’m scared, before he’s torn out of physical existence entirely. He shatters and expands into a hundred different instances along a thousand different pathways.

Existing in that inexorable fugue, pain and fear are simply concepts he no longer experiences. He has no need for such simple emotions. He is a part of the World. He is Pandora.

No, no. Some tens of parts of Viktor say. This is wrong. There’s a reason this is happening.

Try to remember. Who is he? He’s — he’s Viktor Sokolov, Senior Research Scientist. Human.

And who does Viktor Sokolov love?

Jayce Talis.

Jayce! Viktor’s mind screams, as it grabs enough pieces to form itself again. He clings desperately to one thought: Save Jayce.

Save Jayce, he thinks, as he becomes aware of thousands of limbs, extensions of his will; the beasts and creatures of Pandora.

Save Jayce, he thinks, as he moves them like finely-tuned marionettes across a chess board.

A Viperwolf lopes into the Well of Souls and stops in front of Ekko. Ekko stares at him cautiously, hand on the weapon at his hip.

“Viktor? Did it work?” he asks tentatively, peering into the creature’s eyes.

Viktor lowers his head in a bow.

Ekko’s eyes widen. “I can’t believe it. Viktor, this is incredible.”

The Viperwolf paws at the ground and huffs. Hurry.

Ekko wastes no time in taking out his communicator and whistling for his Ikran, “Wait until I get to the Outpost, and make sure no one sees you moving into position,” he calls.

The Viperwolf bows his head again. Ekko quickly mounts his Ikran and takes off. Viktor watches him disappear into the distance, then noses his way under the Tree of Souls. There, his Avatar lies on the ground, braid still connected to the NeuralCore. It looks small, lying there. Viktor can’t believe it ever contained him, given what he is now, what he has become.

He turns his eyes away and stretches his senses miles away. Through a multitude of eyes, he spies an abandoned building deep within the forest, almost hidden amongst the greenery that has grown over it — Outpost 4. He identifies the guards that patrol the perimeter, never letting them out of his sight.

Jayce is inside. He can sense it; the bond leads him there. It hurts to do nothing while his mate is in danger, but he needs to wait. The creatures he gathered for the task mirror his impatience, pawing and pacing until he finally spots Ekko, flying through the trees on his Ikran.

Ekko shivers as he dismounts. “That's terrifying, Vik. Four Thanators? I'd rather fight a Toruk.”

The Thanator is one of Pandora’s fiercest land predators, and its sleek, strong body reminiscent of Terran panthers is exactly what Viktor needs to rescue Jayce. Viktor can feel their powerful muscles and six agile feet, their sharp rows of curved teeth, perfect for shredding.

Elsewhere, he surreptitiously gathers more creatures for the assault on Base Delta. It will be a veritable army when he is done.

Ekko checks his equipment and nods. “You ready? The plan is to distract the guards outside, while we go in and take out the two guards inside. Powder left a door unlocked for us.”

The quills on the Thanators’ heads flare. Three of them turn around and disappear into the forest, moving into position. One stays with Ekko, and slinks behind him until they see the door come into view.

At Ekko’s signal, the two of them run forward as the other Thanators attack the guards outside. Ekko hauls the door open, and Viktor bounds inside.

The room is small. Viktor immediately identifies Jayce among the people huddled together on the floor, but turns his attention away for now. The bond demands retribution, and Viktor will gladly provide it. The two guards in the room stare in shock at the sight of the huge predator. They barely have a chance to lift their weapons before Viktor is on them. He knocks them to the ground with his powerfully armoured tail, delighting in the screams over the sound of snapping bones, then sinks his teeth into the first one and bites down. Hard. Blood sprays around them.

Ekko cries out in surprise, and several of the hostages scream, but Viktor does not stop. His enemies don’t deserve mercy — only death.

Outside is much the same. Caught by surprise, several of the guards manage to fire their weapons, but the bullets glance uselessly off the Thanators’ thick hides. Viktor makes short work of them, the taste of blood filling many mouths.

“That was absolutely fucking overkill,” Ekko tells him as he goes to untie the first few hostages.

Viktor blinks. Bloodshed achieved, his violent urges fade, and he sees the mangled bodies left in his wake. In a haze, he turns to approach Jayce.

Several people cry out in fear. Ekko hurriedly assures them the Thanator means them no harm. Viktor pays them no mind. His gaze is trained on Jayce, who spasms in blind panic as Viktor draws closer. He has dried blood on his head, and he leans in front of another hostage Viktor recognizes as Caitlyn, trying to shield her with his body.

Viktor moves slowly, unwilling to frighten him further. When he is close enough to touch Jayce’s knee, the Thanator lays down. The bond sparks between them.

Recognition sparks in Jayce’s eyes. His mouth opens, and his breath hitches in surprise.

“...Viktor?” he asks. Next to him, Caitlyn stares at him in confusion.

The Thanator lets out a low rumbling purr.

“What, how —” Jayce’s expression fills with growing horror. “Viktor, what have you done?”

As always, his Jayce is brilliant, to figure it out so quickly. Viktor whines and tries to say that he loves him, that he’s sorry, but the words won't come out of the beast’s maw.

Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor sees Ekko leave. He needs to make it in time for phase two. Their fighters are already on their way to Base Delta, and he must be the one to lead them. Time is of the essence. At any moment now, the deceased guards will miss their scheduled check-in, and Ambessa will realize she no longer has hostages.

“Jayce, what are you talking about? How is this Viktor?” Caitlyn asks. Someone unties her, and she quickly turns to free him.

Jayce shudders. Caitlyn gapes as he reaches out and places his unbound hand on the Thanator's large head. “It's not Eywa controlling them — it's Viktor.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“The NeuralCore. He must have used it to connect to Eywa.” Jayce squeezes his eyes shut. Viktor whines and nudges him. He can't stand to see Jayce’s sorrow.

“Is he alright?”

“No,” Jayce says heavily, “No, I don't think he is.”

Before Caitlyn can respond, someone from her team hands her a communicator. Vi is on the other end. She gets up and, with a wary look at Jayce, goes to join the rest of the group. Jayce sits quietly, hand still on the Thanator’s head.

“Can you speak?” Jayce asks.

The Thanator grumbles and tilts his head into Jayce’s hand.

“That's a no, then. Does it... hurt?”

The Thanator huffs.

“Okay. That’s — that’s good.” Jayce looks like he’s holding back for Viktor’s sake. It’s a familiar look, and Viktor doesn’t like it. He’d rather be screamed at, roughly questioned, than this — this quiet, sad acceptance.

Caitlyn soon returns. “I just spoke to Vi. They're about to launch an assault on Base Delta. We have to stay here until the fight is over, and someone can retrieve us.” She doesn’t mention what happens if they aren’t successful. “Someone found a more secure room inside the Outpost, with supplies, and Tom found enough rebreather masks for everyone — he's not completely useless, thank god.”

“Is Viktor with them?” Jayce asks. His eyes never leave Viktor’s.

Caitlyn hesitates. “He is,” she finally says, “Apparently, he’s controlling an awful lot of creatures. Jayce, do you —”

Jayce doesn’t let her finish. “I’ll come find you guys later,” he tells her. Caitlyn falls silent. Chewing at the inside of her lip, she places an extra communicator next to Jayce, gives the Thanator a stiff nod, and leaves.

Miles and miles away, at Base Delta, Viperwolves, Thanators, and Hammerheads join the fighters and attack. Those at Base Delta loyal to Ambessa Medarda are prepared for an offense, but they clearly didn’t expect the utter might of the planet upon them. They crumble easily under their combined force.

Inside the Outpost, Jayce quietly strokes the Thanator’s head, uncaring of the blood splattered on his fur. Viktor, most of himself directed elsewhere, lies there quietly. The feeling of Jayce’s hand on him soothes him as he clears the way for the fighters at Base Delta. He runs through the hallways, blood flecking into his eyes as he rips and tears with a thousand teeth and claws, the sound of gunfire loud and jarring.

Every so often, the Thanator’s body twitches, an echo of the violence Viktor is inflicting elsewhere. Jayce shushes and soothes him, scooting closer so he can place both of his hands on his large body.

Viktor does not like killing; he exists to help others. He chokes on the thick smog of violence as he rends a soldier’s throat into ribbons, then tramples the body of another until they lie broken and still. He does not stop his rampage until he intercepts Ambessa Medarda and the rest of her team trying to make their escape. He bites into Ambessa and holds onto her until Ekko and his people have her surrounded.

Phase two is complete. He lets go, and relinquishes control of every creature, sending them away — except for the one at Jayce’s side.

Jayce learns of their success from Caitlyn over the communicator. He listens quietly and doesn’t respond.

It’s loud at Base Delta. The fighters cheer and celebrate their victory with the base’s residents. But the world is quiet at Outpost 4, where Viktor lays his head against Jayce’s thigh.

“Are you coming back?” Jayce asks quietly.

The Thanator whines and rubs his head against the fabric of his shirt. His objective is complete; Jayce is safe. Viktor can feel himself fading now. Into Eywa. She’s waiting for him, cupped palms ready to catch him.

Jayce finally lets his grief overwhelm him. He shakes, tears overflowing from his eyes. He curls into the Thanator, like he can keep Viktor safe with his own body.

“Oh, Viktor,” he whispers, “Why? There must have been another way.”

No, Viktor knows. There wasn't — not without putting Jayce in danger.

“Please. Tell me how to save you.”

The Thanator gets up and, with one last long look at Jayce, moves toward the door. Viktor can't be here when he loses control over the creature. He has to go before he can't bring himself to leave.

“Wait, where are you going? Viktor? Viktor!” Jayce reaches out to him. Through their bond, Viktor can feel his agony, but he doesn’t stop. Maybe, in some other world, they were able to stay together — where they weren't pulled apart by forces bigger than the both of them.

The Thanator pads outside. All around him, the bioluminescent forest lights up the darkness, shining like stars. He moves slowly at first, then breaks into a run. His large, sturdy paws are pounding, pounding, pounding the ground. The outpost flies away behind him, and the forest rushes forward to meet him. Jayce's anguished shouts disappear into the distance.

As he runs, Viktor feels pieces of himself falling away, like the particles of a dried-out insect husk tossed in the wind. But he’s not afraid. He feels light, like he’s running on air, utterly transformed. The last thing he feels is exhilaration,

And then he knows no more.

Chapter Text

Jayce stumbled out of the chopper the instant it landed at the base, ignoring Caitlyn and Vi calling after him. He ran until he reached the Link Room and burst through the door, startling Ekko and Mel. They were standing in front of Viktor’s link unit, which was still running.

At the sight, Jayce staggered, catching himself on another unit before he could fall to the floor, gasping for breath.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “God dammit!”

An arm around him, partially supporting his weight. It was Ekko, gently maneuvering Jayce toward a chair.

“Why? Why did you let him do it?” Jayce demanded as he sat down heavily, his voice weak and ineffectual to his ears. He hung his head, hair falling into his eyes, chest heaving.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice,” Ekko said quietly, “He saved a lot of people. We didn’t take a single casualty. And because of him, the Na’vi won’t have to fight humans arriving by the shipload.”

“There must have been another way,” Jayce responded, hating it.

“It was our only safe option,” Mel said, from further away. Jayce looked up. She was slightly hunched over with her hand on Viktor’s Link Unit, like a mourner at a wake. She stared at the screen displaying Viktor’s stable vitals, her face betraying nothing.

“I already spoke to the Tsahik,” Ekko told Jayce, “She doesn’t have any answers for us. Something like this has never happened before. People pass through Eywa to the afterlife — they don’t stay.”

Jayce closed his eyes. He could still feel the bond inside of him, steady and strong. It had to mean that Viktor was still alive, that he could be saved.

He opened his eyes. “We can still save him. I just don’t know how. He must be intertwined with the neural network, lost inside of Eywa, whichever way you put it.”

Ekko looked deep in thought. “He wanted you to connect to the Tree of Souls,” he said finally, “Maybe his memory will know.”

Of course, Jayce thought fondly, despite the circumstances. That was just like Viktor, to think of a way to lead him to the answer.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, moving toward his own unit. There was no time to waste.

“Jayce, wait,” Mel said, “May we speak for a moment? Alone?”

Jayce followed her out of the Link Room and into one of the private rooms. Inside, on the steel table, lay an oil painting depicting a beautifully sunlit pond bracketed by golden plains. Two bison stood in the water, heads stooped to drink. In the distance, mountains rose from the forest and spread tall and proud across the canvas. Jayce’s breath hitched when he recognized the landscape. It was Yellowstone. He reached out and lightly traced the canvas, marveling at it. Viktor knew what the place meant to him. Was this a gift? For him?

“He was still working on it, but he wanted me to give this to you if he didn’t make it back.”

“He’s coming back. I’m not giving up on him,” Jayce said quietly.

“Neither am I.” Mel replied. She took a deep breath and moved to stand next to Jayce, looking down at the painting. “He’s a dear friend of mine. When he first arrived here, he was bold and unafraid to question my decisions, even though I was the Chairman’s daughter.” Jayce smiled. That sounded just like Viktor. “He saw something in me that I was afraid to show others. I think that’s what I like the most about him — that he can see the good in others, what they can really do if given the chance.”

“I know,” Jayce said, “He saw it in me, too.”

Mel nodded and gave him a faint smile. “I need to get back. Family business. Good luck, Jayce. Anything you need — please, just ask.”

“Thank you,” Jayce said, and he meant it.

When he was the only one left in the room, he looked up at the ventilation duct in the ceiling.

“Powder, are you there?”

Silence. Then the grate swung open with a clang. Jayce couldn’t see anything inside except darkness. More silence.

“Sprout, talk to me. Please.”

“....He’s not gonna be okay, is he.” Powder’s voice echoed from inside the vent.

“He will be,” Jayce replied, with more confidence than he felt.

Powder said something that Jayce couldn’t hear.

“Powder?”

He held in a yelp of surprise as she suddenly dropped down from the vent. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, and she had various cuts and bruises scattered on her body.

“Hey, Birthday Cake,” Powder said weakly. She tried to smile, then her entire face crumpled. Jayce gingerly swept her into a hug, mindful of her wounds.

“You heard Mel. V has a lot of people on his side, including you and me. We won’t let him down. He’s coming back.”

Powder shook her head, fisting her hand in Jayce’s shirt. “But what if he doesn’t?” she asked. Jayce swallowed.

“He will.” He has to.

Tatsyetsì, Ekko’s friend, was waiting for them at the Well of Souls.

“I see you, Jayce. I see you, Ekko,” he said to them.

“I see you, Tatsyetsì. Any change?” Ekko asked.

Tatsyetsì shook his head and looked toward Viktor’s Avatar lying on its side under the Tree of Souls, still linked to the NeuralCore floating above him. Jayce followed his gaze, then quickly looked away, gritting his teeth. His heart pounded in his chest. He tried not to think about the last time he and Viktor had come here.

Across the clearing on the naturally formed rock wall, Rio, Viktor’s Ikran, gave a low, mournful whistle and climbed out of sight. Jayce watched his own Ikran take off and fly after her, until she was also out of sight.

He turned to Tatsyetsì. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

Tatsyetsì waved his hand. “It’s nothing. Viktor was kind the last time we spoke.”

Jayce blinked. “He talked to you?”

Tatsyetsì nodded. “When he came alone to speak to the Tsahik, some time ago. I asked him about his machines. He said I could come to the lab and see them.” The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. “As long as I don’t try to take them apart again.”

“You still can — come see them, that is, once I get him back,” Jayce told him. He turned to approach the Tree of Souls, Ekko following behind him.

Viktor was now only a few feet away. Throat tight, Jayce closed the distance and knelt down. He brushed away the hair that had fallen into Viktor’s face, gingerly tucking it behind his ear. Viktor’s chest fell and rose evenly, but his eyes weren’t moving behind his closed lids, the way they were supposed to when linked. That didn’t bode well.

Jayce traced the side of Viktor’s face with his fingertips. “Viktor,” he whispered, then grimaced and shook his head. He forced himself to stand and step away, toward one of the hanging tendrils.

“He said that connecting to the tree would help explain things,” Ekko said quietly.

Jayce nodded. “Here goes, then.” He ignored his trembling hands and linked his queue, closing his eyes.

Jayce feels the memory form around him.

“...Jayce, you came.”

Jayce opens his eyes and looks toward the source of the voice. Another Viktor now stands where the real one lay unconscious, watching him carefully with those luminescent, golden eyes. Something sad lurks in them. His pack sits next to him. Jayce can see the NeuralCore inside, still in its glass container. Was this the moment before he connected to the planet and sacrificed himself?

Jayce can’t bear it. He reaches over and pulls Viktor into a hug. He’s warm and soft against him. Jayce breathes him in, inhaling deeply.

“Why did you do it, V?” he whispers, and feels Viktor stiffen in his arms.

“I take that it worked? You’re safe?”

“I am, but you’re not. You’re lost inside of Eywa, and we need to get you out.”

A moment passes.

“No,” Viktor murmurs softly as he slips out of Jayce’s arms. Jayce is left holding nothing.

“No? What do you mean —”

“This is goodbye, Jayce,” Viktor says quietly, his face carefully still, “I wanted you to connect to the tree so I could say goodbye.”

Dread creeps into Jayce’s chest. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re just going to leave me here? Alone? What about your research?”

“I entrust it to you, now. You were fine before me, Jayce. You’ll be fine after.”

Jayce curls his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms, “You’re wrong and you know it. I need you. I waited for you my entire life. My soul. There’s still a way to save you, I just don’t know how. Please, tell me,” he pleads.

Viktor’s expression breaks. “I —” He bites the inside of his lip and looks away, face tightening.

“Please,” Jayce presses, “I promised Anna I would take care of you.” For a moment, he thinks Viktor will give in, but then his expression closes off again. Jayce’s heart sinks.

“She wasn’t real, Jayce, simply a memory. Just like I am, remember? I’m already gone.”

Jayce feels cold all over. “No, you’re not. Just tell me how to save you —”

Viktor steps closer, looking up at him. His eyebrows tilt up, a lifetime of words behind his gaze. But all he says is: “Goodbye, Jayce. I love you, my darling. Disconnect me from the NeuralCore. Let me go.”

He takes several steps back. Jayce’s breath catches in his throat.

“No — Don’t —” he lunges forward, reaching for Viktor.

The memory faded around him. Jayce was left standing with his arm still outstretched, still reaching for Viktor.

“I’m guessing that didn’t go well,” Ekko said.

“Shut up,” Jayce growled.

Ekko, thankfully, didn’t take offense. “I’m sorry, Jayce.”

Jayce clenched his fists, his mind racing. “I won’t let it end like this. I made a promise.”

“What are you going to do?”

Jayce didn’t answer him. He took a hold of his queue and connected to the tree again.

“Please, Eywa,” he whispered, “There must be a version of Viktor that will tell me how to save him. Bring him to me.”

A second passed. Then two. Then —

He’s still in front of the Tree of Souls.

“I don’t understand. What are you trying to tell me?” he asks, looking up at the hanging tendrils.

“Jayce?”

Jayce startles and looks around to see Viktor, standing some distance away. Sitting next to him is the equipment they used to collect the data from the Well of Souls.

“We should focus on our work. Come on,” Viktor looks away awkwardly, biting the inside of his lip, and reaches down for his pack. “The Well is a large area. We need to finish before sunrise.”

Jayce realizes where he is. This is when they had their confrontation about the consciousness transfer, then the mating bond.

“Viktor, wait,” Jayce says.

Viktor sighs and continues to rummage inside his pack. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, Jayce. Can we finish our work? Please?”

“It’s not that. Look, this is going to sound strange, but — we’re inside a memory.”

Viktor stills. His brows furrow, and he looks up at him. “What are you saying?” he asks slowly, straightening.

Jayce hesitates. He has to tread carefully, or this memory of Viktor will also refuse to tell him what he needs to know, and he can’t take that chance. “Right now, I’m linked to the Tree of Souls. You don’t remember anything after this, but I was kidnapped by Ambessa. To save me, you connected to the planet with the NeuralCore to control the creatures on Pandora.”

Viktor frowns. “Instead of Eywa?”

“Yes. You needed the element of surprise, and finer control over them. But — that’s not important. What’s important is that you won’t wake up. You’re stuck inside of Eywa, and I need to know how to get you out.”

Viktor looks at Jayce like he’s seeing him for the first time. “What happened after this?” he asks as he searches Jayce’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something different about you,” Viktor squints at him, mouth twisting that familiar way when he’s thinking very hard about something. “When I look at you, I feel…” He can’t seem to find the right words.

Jayce shakes his head. “That’s not important right now. Every second you stay trapped, the less chance there is to save you.” He’s telling the truth. Viktor’s human body can only stay alive for so long. Dr. Singed managed to get an IV into him without disrupting the link, but that was only a temporary stopgap. They can’t do anything more without risking the link itself.

“Why are you in this memory?” Viktor asks. He seems to have gotten over being a memory quite quickly.

“What do you mean?”

“As a failsafe, I would have uploaded my memories to the planet before using the NeuralCore. That version of me would have the most complete information. Right now, we haven’t achieved Level 3, much less Level 4.”

Jayce groans. Dammit. He really should have expected any version of Viktor to be able to figure it out. But Eywa must have shown him this memory for a reason. He hangs on to that small hope.

“You knew that Neural Level 4 was possible this entire time? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was just a theory. What good would it have done?”

This is getting Jayce nowhere. “Viktor, please. Tell me how I can save you.”

Viktor presses his lips together, considering. “I must have refused to tell you. Tell me why.”

Jayce grits his teeth. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Viktor huffs. “Then I guess we won't be getting anywhere.” He crosses his arms, standing his ground.

Jayce gapes at him. “You’re joking.”

“I’m really not.”

When Viktor refuses to say anything more, cold and dark despair washes through Jayce’s entire body. His breathing turns ragged, and his throat tightens. This is his only chance to save Viktor, and Viktor, dear stubborn Viktor, won’t get over himself for one single second to save his own life.

He imagines the real Viktor, still alive and lying there right next to him, as good as dead. He might as well be all the way on Earth’s moon, for all Jayce can do. He’s failed Viktor. He’s failed the most important person in his life. His partner. His mate.

He’s well beyond his breaking point, and his patience snaps clean in two, utterly crushed underfoot by some enormous mammal. Ears folding back, he hisses at Viktor, who flinches away, his beautiful golden eyes widening in alarm.

“Why are you always like this? You think that if you have all the info in the world, you can predict everything. But you’re wrong!” Jayce breaks off and screams, grabbing the glowing tendrils in front of him, yanking harshly. The branch lowers, but doesn’t break. Viktor winces, but doesn’t say anything. That just makes Jayce angrier.

“Science isn’t enough, Viktor! You were wrong about me every single time. You always push me away, think I don’t need you, but that’s a lie. You’re the only thing that matters to me. I would do anything for you. The consciousness transfer — anything! You — you —”

His vision blurs over with tears, until he can’t see Viktor in front of him. He falls to the ground on his knees, weeping like a child, curling in on himself. He feels like his chest is cut open as he bleeds out onto the ground. His entire body shakes, muscles locked tight, unable to process anything around him except for his misery.

Distantly, Jayce feels Viktor’s arms wrap around him. On instinct, he turns and presses himself into Viktor’s chest, sobbing, held at that constant of anticipatory grief. He goes on like that for a while, crying about a terrible loss that has yet to come. When his cries finally peter out into breathless hiccups, he slumps against Viktor, exhausted. He’s furious at him, but it feels good to touch him, even if he’s just a memory.

That’s all he’ll have now — echoes of Viktor holding him.

Slowly, as his breathing begins to calm, he realizes that above him, Viktor has been silent and still the entire time. “Viktor?” he breaths.

“We’re mated for life.”

Jayce startles and looks up. Viktor’s eyes are squeezed closed, his eyebrows twitching. That’s impossible. In this memory, they weren’t mated yet. There’s no way this Viktor could know.

“What? How do you—”

“I can feel it — your emotions,” Viktor murmurs.

Jayce sucks in a startled breath.

Viktor continues, his tone sad and wistful, “How is this possible? I’m just a reflection of the real Viktor. I shouldn’t be able to feel anything.”

Jayce’s laugh sounds hollow and worn out to his own ears. “You said it yourself. There are some things that science just can’t explain.”

Viktor opens his eyes. They’re filled with tears. He looks devastated. “Tell me what happened after this. Please.”

Jayce doesn’t have the strength to refuse him any longer. “You told me you were putting the consciousness transfer on hold so we could stay together. We completed the mating bond. You were... sort of wrong about how it worked. We could still feel the bond outside of our Avatars. When we achieved Neural Level 3, I met your mom, and I promised her I’d take care of you. That’s — pretty much it. Then I got kidnapped, and you connected to Eywa to save me.”

Viktor stays silent after Jayce finishes, evidently taking in his words. He strokes Jayce’s hair. Jayce closes his eyes and leans into it.

“I must have loved you too much,” Viktor finally whispers.

“What do you mean?” Jayce murmurs, opening his eyes.

Viktor cradles his cheek. Tears fall from his eyes. Jayce reaches up and wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. He can't stand to see any version of Viktor cry.

“I must have loved you too much to let you sacrifice yourself for me. I must have thought you would be okay without me. I was wrong. I mean, look at you.” Jayce flushes. “I don’t need a mating bond to know the truth. We can’t stay away from each other, and we can’t live without each other. If I die, you die. Why am I such a fool?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jayce says quietly, “If you had asked me to do the consciousness transfer back then, I would have said no. I thought I couldn’t leave my life as it is. But I was wrong, too. You are the only thing that matters. I would go to the ends of the Earth for you. I wish I could have told you that. I should have realized sooner.”

Viktor nods, smiling through his tears. “You can, and you will.”

Jayce blinks and straightens, staring at him. “Viktor?”

“I’ll tell you how to save me, but you must promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” he says fervently, hope rising steadily inside of him.

Viktor runs the back of his fingers along Jayce’s jaw. “Tell me I’m an idiot.”

Jayce laughs at that — in sheer grief or relief, he doesn’t know. Viktor joins him. They hold each other and press their foreheads together for a moment, before separating.

“Viktor, thank you,” Jayce says softly, “I’m sorry — for yelling.”

His partner shakes his head. “No, you were right. Sometimes, I really am very, very wrong.”

“Only sometimes,” Jayce replies. They smile at each other.

Viktor takes a deep breath, and his expression turns serious. “I think I have it. Listen very carefully.”

Jayce nods.

“You must use Neural Level 4,” Viktor tells him.

“Four? But that’s the level you were on — the one that trapped you inside of Eywa.”

Viktor shakes his head. “Not Level 4 on a planetary level — Level 4 on the individual level.”

“So... I would connect directly with your queue,” Jayce guesses.

“Correct. My theory — The real Viktor must be lost inside of his own memories.”

“How do you know?”

“Eywa is physically made up of Pandora’s neural network. But metaphysically, she’s made up of the memory of every sentient being that’s ever connected to her. He wouldn’t be inside of someone else’s memory — he’d be inside of his own. To get me out, you must lead me to a place where the memories naturally exit.”

“How do I do that?”

“By knowing everything there is about me, as Eywa does. An entire lifetime of memories, shoved into a human brain already full of its own.”

Jayce blanches. “Can a human mind contain that kind of information?”

Viktor hums, “A little. You will most likely forget most of these memories as soon as you wake. The brain offloads what it doesn’t need. But the neurological damage from the period of time you are holding them? I don’t know.” He doesn’t look pleased at this prospect.

“If there’s a chance, I’ll take it,” Jayce says, “Will you have damage from being in Eywa?”

Viktor frowns. “Most likely. I’m sorry, I wish I knew more. But I know that you should do it as soon as possible.”

Jayce nods and stands. “I better go, then.”

Viktor stands too. As he does, his body suddenly jerks, and his face clears itself of all emotion. Then he straightens stiffly and looks towards Jayce, who recoils on instinct. He knows Viktor better than he knows himself — every movement, every expression. Something’s wrong. This is not Viktor.

Not Viktor opens his mouth. “The memory is a maze. It will try to keep him lost. You must lead him out. He must leave for Pandora.” He sounds like two different voices layered on top of each other. One is Viktor. Jayce can’t identify the other.

“Who are you?” Jayce asks, peering at the other man’s face. He breathes in sharply when he makes the connection. “Eywa?” he asks tentatively, taking a step back.

Not Viktor gives him a smile that appears kind, but doesn’t look quite right. Then he blinks, and his stiff expression turns back into the Viktor he knows and loves.

Viktor shudders. “That was. Unpleasant.” His voice has returned to normal.

“Are you okay?”Jayce asks, deeply unsettled, but also a little excited about the scientific implications.

“A fifth-dimensional being folding themself into the reflection of a person? Like stuffing time into an imaginary square. Make sure you write that down.”

Jayce huffs fondly. Always the scientist. “I love you, V. You’re wonderful.”

Viktor gives him a wry smile. “Go, now.”

“I won’t fail. I promise.”

“I love you too, my darling. Good luck.” Viktor stands there, lithe figure silhouetted against the glowing Tree of Souls, a constellation to guide him to his destination. He gives Jayce one last look, then turns and walks away. As he does, the memory dissolves.

When reality situated itself again, Jayce found that he was still connected to the Tree.

“Uh, thanks, Eywa. Good call,” he said. The wind picked up and swung the tendrils Jayce had grabbed in the memory into his face. “Ow. Okay, fair.”

“What are you doing?” Turning around, Jayce saw Ekko, staring at him with consternation.

Jayce told him what he had just learned. When he finished, Ekko looked at him like he had grown five heads.

“You two are really fucked up. I just have to say that, before you go running in after Viktor.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Ekko crossed his arms. “So how long do you think you’ll be in there?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care, as long as Viktor gets out safely.”

Ekko sighed. “Alright. Tatsyetsì and I will stay here and keep watch. But I’m going to warn you — You go in there, you’re on your own. I don’t think we’ll be able to get you out.”

Jayce nodded, then paused. “Wait. There's one last thing I have to do,” he said, bending down to pick up the recording device Viktor left on the ground. He rustled inside of Viktor’s pack until he found an extra tape, replacing the one inside.

He walked until he was at the edge of the clearing, then sat down and pressed the recording button, watching the tape whirl and move, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Uh, hey, mom. It's — it's Jayce. I mean... you know that, but —” he broke off and took a deep breath. He needed to get this right.

He tried again. “It’s been a long time since the last time we talked. A lot’s happened. There aren’t enough words in the world that can say how sorry I am, for what I did. I should have told you where I was going. But... I was scared.”

He laughed brittlely. “I guess I'm used to the people I love leaving me, but when I'm the one leaving them... I can't take it. The thing is — and I think you know this already — I don't think I'm coming back. To Earth. I met someone. His name is Viktor. And I don't know if Cait’s told you about us —” His mind flashed to an image of Caitlyn attempting to explain everything to his mother. “But I love him. He's everything. I was searching for something my entire life, and it was here on Pandora all along. I’m not scared anymore. Because of him, I'm happy. I hope you're happy, too, wherever you are.” He sighed, turning to look at Viktor’s Avatar in the distance.

“Bye, mom. Talk to you soon.” He ended the recording and walked back to Ekko.

“Can you make sure this gets to Ximena Talis?” he asked him, removing the tape from the recorder. Ekko eyed it suspiciously.

“You’re planning to come back, right?” Ekko said as he slowly reached out to take the tape.

“I made him a promise,” Jayce said, “I’m coming back, and I’m bringing him with me.”

He lay down next to Viktor’s Avatar. With the tip of his finger, he gently traced Viktor’s sleeping profile, from the top of his forehead, down his nose, to his lips, until he met the point of his chin.

Viktor didn’t react. But it didn’t matter. Jayce knew that he was in there. Somewhere. And Jayce was going to find him.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, V,” he murmured.

Then he reached up and connected their queues together.

Chapter Text

Viktor blinks his eyes open to the dark ceiling above him. He was dreaming, he thinks wearily, of something good he can’t remember. He knows it’s futile to try and go back, but he closes his eyes anyway and settles into the sheets.

Sleep never comes. He lies there, awake and aching, until he has to get up for the day.

Despite his disappointment, something warm and comfortable has settled inside of him this morning. It puts him in an unusually good mood; he hums as he sips his instant coffee, taking in the sounds of people in the apartments around him: the plodding creak of footsteps; a faucet, previously an unending drip drip drip, turning on full blast; the loud bangs of doors opening and closing, then the pitter patter of small feet on worn carpet in the hallway; from far away, the sounds of shouting and weeping.

Viktor rinses out his mug and puts on his backpack. Before he leaves, he looks into the mirror and straightens his school uniform, thinking the same words he’s thought every morning for the past five years.

I am going to get out of this place.

The warm feeling stays, only slightly marred by the emerging migraine building in his left temple, spurred on by the bright classroom lights. There’s no relief for him; he left his medication on the breakfast table in his apartment.

Viktor resigns himself to his fate. He doubts any of his classmates, the sons and daughters of multinational corporations and well-known names, would have anything helpful on them, and he doesn’t bother asking. They aren’t cruel to him — they never are — but indifference is maybe sometimes the same as cruelty. Right now, the last thing he wants is to deal with more of that detached clinicality, when he can simply endure — as he usually does.

At the front of the room, Mrs. Rosen picks up her tablet to signal the start of class. Viktor opens his laptop and tries to listen, he really does, but the headache keeps pounding, pounding, pounding incessantly against the inside of his skull.

Thankfully, Mrs. Rosen stops her lecture when the door opens. Viktor doesn’t look up, too busy taking advantage of the reprieve to organize his tangle of notes. In his peripheral vision, he sees a tall figure step into the room.

Mrs. Rosen addresses the newcomer. “Ah, there you are. The new transfer, I presume? Did you receive your schedule from the front office?”

The newcomer says, a little shyly, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Very good. Class,” Mrs. Rosen now addresses the room, “This is Mr. Jayce Talis, who will be joining us for the rest of the semester. His mother is Ximena Talis of Talis Industries.”

At this information, his classmates murmur around him. For Viktor, something about the name ‘Talis’ sounds strangely familiar. Mildly curious, his eyes look over the top of his laptop. But instead of the cursory glance he expects, his heart skips a beat, and he freezes.

Jayce Talis is staring directly at him with warm, hazel eyes that tint green under the bright fluorescent lights. His face is sweet and handsome, with the strong line of his jaw and the slight pout of his pretty dark-pink lips. He’s beautiful.

And all my stars, Viktor thinks, unbidden, as a wave of relief suddenly washes over him. He frowns in confusion. What is he so relieved about?

At the front of the room, Jayce looks down and away, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a small smile. Viktor feels a flush rise to his cheeks and also looks away, fiddling nervously with a loose thread on the hem of his uniform. He unsuccessfully tries to stamp out the emotions coursing through him. Why in the world is he shrinking away like a shy maiden? Why does he feel this way about a complete stranger?

“Hi.”

Viktor’s head snaps up to see Jayce standing in front of him, having approached while he was distracted. He winces when his headache flares in response to the too-quick movement.

“Are you okay?” Jayce asks, a look of concern on his face.

Viktor waves him off, rubbing his temple. “Headache,” he mutters, “I’m Viktor.”

Jayce smiles and takes the seat in front of Viktor's. “You are,” he says, then blinks, “Oh. I think I have something for that.” He sticks a hand into his pocket. Out of it emerges a small white pill, comfortably pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. He gently places it in Viktor’s outstretched hand.

As Jayce draws away, Viktor lets out the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding, hand twitching in delayed response to the feeling of Jayce’s fingers brushing his sensitive palm. “Did you just... take that out of your pocket?”

Jayce winces. “Oh, haha. I keep those on hand for my own... headaches.” He sticks his hand into his pocket again and pulls out a handful of the same pills. Viktor stares. Who keeps a pile of pills in their pocket?

They're interrupted by Mrs. Rosen resuming her lesson. Jayce gives him a quick smile and turns around in his seat, leaving Viktor to stare at his back. What a strange boy, he thinks to himself, still strangely warm and comfortable inside of his chest. He takes the pill from his hand and, without much preamble, places it in his mouth and swallows it dry.

He sees him again on the train.

As always, the carriage is hot and overly stuffy at peak hours. It’s crowded with the rest of his ilk commuting back to the slums after a day working in the better parts of the city. There’s never enough room for Viktor to sit down, despite his obvious disability, and the city doesn’t care enough to regularly maintain the line that goes through the slums. The ride jerks and bumps at odd intervals, forcing Viktor to brace himself as best he can, or risk stumbling into another passenger. His headache is gone, thankfully, but his stronger leg is aching from holding up most of his weight.

At any rate, he’s used to it; it’s the price he pays for attending the most prestigious high school in the state, and it’s not like he can move closer when he’s barely surviving on the little money he has left after paying his debts.

He usually minds his own business on the train, like everyone else. But today, he finds himself looking at the people around him, and spots Jayce Talis on the far side of the train, the other boy standing and swaying with the rest of the crowd like he belongs there.

Viktor’s eyebrows twitch. The new transfer student, whose last name is in the title of a recognizable corporation, lives this far from the city center and this close to the slums? It’s a preposterous idea.

Deep in thought, he’s still looking at Jayce when the other boy turns toward him, their eyes meeting across the crowded carriage. He smiles and waves before Viktor can look away.

Caught in the act, Viktor freezes, torn between waving back or feigning ignorance. In the end, he settles for a polite nod and hurriedly looks away. For the rest of the ride home, he tries his hardest not to look in the other boy’s direction, focusing on a spot on the wall and staring determinedly at it.

Several stops later, through the grimy window of the train, he sees Jayce on the station platform, walking away.

Wobbling onto the balls of his feet and bracing himself on his cane, Viktor follows his path through the crowds until he disappears from sight. He then stumbles and nearly falls into another passenger, earning him a glare for his trouble as the train jolts to a start.

Jayce Talis won’t leave him alone.

Viktor wants to ignore him, at first; he’s very busy already, and needs to focus on his grades in the event his application to the Pandoran New Scientists Program is denied. If he has to attend university instead, he needs all the scholarships he can get to afford the tuition.

But he can’t help but feel this pull toward Jayce. It doesn’t help that they share most of their classes together. Short greetings quickly turn into entire conversations, and they take the train to school standing side-by-side. A week in, they start eating lunch together.

Being under the full force of Jayce’s attention feels like a beam of sunshine has broken off of the sun and decided to shine only on Viktor, like a spotlight he can’t escape. Normally, he would feel smothered and annoyed, but to his great surprise — he turns toward it like a grateful flower. He and Jayce can talk about anything, anywhere — their conversations easy and relaxed, like they’ve known each other their entire lives.

One day, Jayce looks hesitant when they sit down to eat lunch.

“I need some help,” he says, shifting nervously in his seat.

“With what?”

“Biology,” he answers sheepishly.

Viktor makes a questioning noise. He’s seen Jayce’s test scores — he’s acing physics and chemistry, both much harder subjects than biology. “The material on the last exam, or our readings for this week?”

“...All of it.” At Viktor’s skeptical look, Jayce explains: “The high school I went to focused more on technical stuff, so it’s all new to me.”

“What kind of school did you go to?”

“A really bad one. So, uh — do you think you could help me? Please? I mean, I totally get it if you can’t, but —”

“Of course I can,” Viktor agrees immediately, his heart skipping a beat when Jayce beams at him. “But I am pretty busy. I’m at the University lab three times a week, then I work until ten o’clock most nights.”

“Then when do you get to study?”

“When I’m at work, or after. It’s a repair shop, so I study whenever I can find the time.” Viktor could help Jayce there, ostensibly — if it weren’t located right next to his apartment in the slums.

Jayce brightens. “I don’t mind where we study.”

Viktor doubts that. “It’s in the slums.”

To his surprise, Jayce doesn’t react to this new information. “That’s not a problem,” he replies steadily, but squirms a little in his seat when Viktor stares at him for a moment too long.

“...Sure,” Viktor says as nonchalantly as possible, trying not to dwell on the fact that he’s pleased to spend more time with Jayce.

Jayce turns out to be a big help at the repair shop. The first time he goes in, he doesn’t react at all to the grimy walls, cloudy display cases, and shitty lighting. He acts like he’s been there for years. Benzo, the owner, loves him immediately, and doesn’t object to his presence; Viktor suspects that it’s because he doesn’t need to pay Jayce.

When Viktor isn’t tutoring him, or busy studying, Jayce helps run the shop front or makes repairs. He never seems to do his homework or study his other subjects, and waves it off when Viktor asks him.

“Just need help with biology,” he says, then promptly mixes up something as simple as genetic drift and gene flow. Viktor can make neither head nor tails of it.

Jayce also stays later than Viktor expects. When he asks him if he has anywhere else to be, Jayce just shrugs and tells him that his mom is busy running the company back in Boston. He’s here alone — just like Viktor.

One day, the head of the university lab, Dr. Pearson, calls Viktor into the office. He’s a kind man with high standards, and Viktor has been trying his best to make a good impression.

“I’ve heard you’re applying for scholarships — I’m on the committee for a new one established just this year, offering full rides to the university. The deadline is approaching soon, so I wanted to let you know ahead of time.” He smiles at Viktor. “With your background and work ethic, I’m positive you’ll be one of the chosen recipients.”

“Thank you, Professor. I’ll have my application ready by next week,” Viktor replies, and thinks.

“Hey Vik,” Benzo calls out to him the next day, “I got a call from one of my mates in the city — he works close to your school. He’s hiring some part-timers. Hope you don’t mind I put your name in — could be good for you, if you’re going to that university.”

“Thank you,” Viktor says, and thinks some more.

One night, Jayce stays later than he usually does helping him with a repair. It’s past midnight when they finish. Viktor doesn't want him walking all the way home this late, and they don’t have school the next day, anyway — it’s one of his rare days off.

“Come on,” Viktor gestures to him. Jayce looks up, grease charmingly smeared on one of his cheeks. “You can stay over and go back to your apartment tomorrow.”

Jayce pauses, then nods, packing up his things and following him out the door. He helps Viktor pull down the metal sliding over the front of the shop. They make their way quietly down several streets, Viktor careful to point out potholes on the uneven sidewalk, difficult to spot in the dim lighting. There are very few working streetlights in this area, and it’s silent and still where they are, like time has frozen around them.

“How long have you lived here?” Jayce asks as they stand inside the rickety elevator to Viktor’s floor.

“My entire life,” Viktor answers quietly, “My mother passed away some years ago. It’s just me, now.”

“I’m so sorry, V.” For a moment, in the dim glow of the elevator lighting, Viktor thinks he sees a younger Jayce staring at him, with larger eyes and rounder cheeks. But when he blinks, it’s just Jayce standing there.

The apartment has changed very little since his mother passed away; Viktor has gotten rid of his old bed and kept his mother’s larger one, unable to throw it away. A large desk now sits in the corner, piled high with schematics, tools, and parts. Viktor tries his best to keep everything neat, but it’s a losing battle.

“Sorry about the mess,” he says as he turns on the light, setting his backpack down with a sigh.

“You should see my place,” Jayce jokes. He doesn’t look around, bending down instead to scratch behind the ears of a purring Rio. “Hello, there.”

They have a mild disagreement over who should take the bed. Viktor insists that it should be Jayce, seeing that he is the guest, but Jayce refuses to let him sleep on the floor. “If you do, then I’m also sleeping on the floor,” he declares boldly. They giggle helplessly at the image of Rio sleeping by herself on the bed, the two of them lying on the ground.

They compromise, in the end; the bed is large enough for two, after all. Viktor expects some awkwardness when he lies down next to Jayce, but it never comes. Jayce just turns to him and, with his eyes bright in the dim light, wishes him goodnight.

Viktor wakes up to a head of hair in his face. His body is pressed against the solid line of Jayce’s back, arms wrapped around him. It’s a rather intimate position. Viktor feels a blush rise to his cheeks as he tries to slowly detangle himself, but Jayce shifts as he does.

“Mmrph,” Jayce groans, “V,” he mumbles. Viktor lies there, stock-still and frozen, as Jayce catches one of Viktor’s hands around his waist and brings it up to his mouth, kissing the back of it softly. Viktor feels it like a soft searing brand on his skin. Jayce settles his hand back on his stomach and pats it sleepily. “Time s’it?”

“I — I don’t know,” Viktor says with a shaking voice.

Jayce freezes, now fully awake. “Oh my god, I am so sorry —” he starts to get up, but Viktor immediately tightens his arms around his waist. What the hell am I doing?

Jayce makes a noise that sounds rather like a squeak and falls back onto the mattress.

“Viktor?” he asks. Viktor doesn’t answer. Instead, he buries his head in Jayce’s back, refusing to relinquish his grip. He has no idea why he’s doing this; he just knows that under no circumstances is he to let Jayce go.

Jayce seems to sense his mood immediately. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says, voice gentle and soft, “Can I turn around?”

Viktor considers this, then nods into his back. The other boy carefully turns in the circle of Viktor’s arms until they’re facing each other, still pressed close together.

“Hey,” Jayce whispers. He looks worried.

“Hi,” Viktor whispers back. “Is this... okay?”

Jayce smiles. “It’s more than okay.”

Viktor desperately wants to kiss him; he thinks that Jayce would let him. Their faces are only inches apart — he could easily close the distance between their lips until they made contact. He leans in, just a little. Jayce looks like he’s about to say something, but then he’s interrupted by a knock on the door.

Viktor pulls away regretfully. Jayce swallows and follows his lips with his eyes. “Excuse me.”

When he takes his cane and cracks open the door, Aleksy pushes the rest of his way in. He’s a thin but wiry man, strong and imposing enough to moonlight as security around the city. Viktor cries out as the door hits his side and knocks him off balance. He lands on his hip, cane clattering onto the ground next to him.

Behind him, Jayce shouts and is at his side in an instant. He draws up to his full height and stares Aleksy down. The man takes a step back, but doesn’t lose the scowl on his face. He’s normally gruff and uncompromising, but he’s never resorted to violence when dealing with Viktor — then again, he’s never looked this agitated, either.

“What the hell is your problem?” Jayce demands, fists clenched at his sides.

“Payment’s due,” Aleksy grunts, breath stinking of alcohol. Jayce looks like he’s moments away from starting a fight, so Viktor intervenes.

“Your payment is in the envelope on the kitchen table. My apologies, I couldn’t get it to you yesterday. Late night at the shop,” he tells him, willing his voice not to tremble.

Aleksy grunts and roughly shoulders past Jayce, disappearing into the kitchen. Jayce looks like he’s about to go after him, but bends down instead to help Viktor off the floor.

Aleksy reappears a moment later, envelope in hand. “No more late payments.”

“Understood.”

He leaves without further acknowledgement, but closes the door with a sound loud enough to make both of them flinch.

With the man gone, Viktor finds the chair at his desk and sits down, still shaking, both hands tightly gripping his cane. He takes several deep breaths before attempting to speak.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I think you should leave,” he says quietly.

Jayce doesn’t move, his hands clenched into fists. “He’s not supposed to be — when did he start pushing you around?”

“Start?” Viktor asks, confused as to his wording. “Well, he’s usually very stoic. I’ve never seen him like this, though this is the first time I’ve been late on payment.”

“That guy’s not safe, Viktor. Do you think he’ll leave you alone if you pay the rest of the debt?”

Viktor frowns. “I don’t know. My mother had to borrow a lot of money from him — I’ll be paying it off for a long time.”

“I could help, I have enough,” Jayce insists. Viktor huffs. Of course Jayce has enough money to pay off any amount of debt.

“I don’t need your pity,” Viktor says, eyes narrowing as he glares up at Jayce. Jayce flinches, then does something truly unusual. Viktor stares as he lowers himself to sit on the ground at Viktor’s feet. He looks up at him, gently placing a broad hand over his knee.

Jayce swallows. “Of course you don’t. I just want you to be safe, V. I care about you,” he says, eyes earnest and warm, thumb rubbing a soothing motion into the joint.

Viktor’s leg twitches, but he doesn’t do anything to stop him. “You care an awful lot about someone you really don’t know all that well,” he says quietly.

For some reason, that makes Jayce laugh, though it sounds more sad than mirthful. “Yeah, well. I think you deserve to be cared about — you’re wonderful, brilliant, kind, and driven to do great things.”

Viktor flushes to the tips of his ears. “Stop it. You don’t know that.”

“I do know,” Jayce insists, earnest and honest and too much, “I’ve known since the very first time we saw each other.”

Viktor snorts. He’s a scholarship student surviving off of one meal a day, sitting among classmates whose parents lead international corporations. It seems impossible that Jayce would choose to focus all of his attention on someone like him, of all people. He should make him leave, set him off on another course toward a more deserving target. But he finds himself greedy for Jayce’s attention — wants to swallow it all up like he’s starving.

Jayce suddenly jumps up, surprising him from his reverie.

“You know what we should do today? Go somewhere interesting, just the two of us.” Jayce announces. He moves to pick up his backpack and starts to pack his things.

“For what?” Viktor blinks, confused and distracted for the moment, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. Come on, let’s get breakfast first at that place you like, my treat.”

“How —” A jacket lands on Viktor and covers his head. “Jayce!”

“Sorry!”

Viktor and Jayce stand in front of one of the most popular museums in the city. Around them, crowds of tourists mill about, walking in and out of the triple sets of double doors.

“I should tell you — I’ve been here before,” Viktor says.

“I know, but not since you were a kid, right? They have a permanent exhibit on Pandora now.”

Viktor stares at him. “Yes, that is correct,” he says slowly. Before he can say anything else, Jayce produces a pair of season tickets from his pocket, and motions for them to trudge inside with the rest of the crowd.

Viktor sees it immediately once they’re through the doors. He gasps. Towering above the main foyer is a massive skeleton of a Pandoran Tulkun and its calf, reminiscent of Earth’s extinct whales and three times as large. Viktor hasn’t been able to appreciate the difference in size until now.

“It’s beautiful,” he says in quiet awe. Next to him, Jayce grins. They stand to the side and admire it.

Jayce clears his throat. “In this species, the females are larger than the males — which makes sense. The calves hide inside their mother’s mouths when they feel threatened.”

“I know,” Viktor smiles, the confrontation with Aleksy lighter on his mind. “Are you interested in Pandora, too?”

Jayce grins. “Just a little. You applied to the program, right?”

Viktor frowns. He doesn’t recall ever mentioning it. “I did. How did you know that?”

Jayce blinks. “Oh — lucky guess, I guess — all the top students apply.”

“Mmn, not necessarily true,” Viktor allows, “It’s a considerable commitment. Those who go will spend decades or the rest of their lives on the planet. Their friends, family — they’ll leave them all behind.”

“I think it’s worth it. I mean, this is Pandora we’re talking about,” Jayce says.

An interesting perspective, and one that Viktor has been debating. “Would you go, then? If you were accepted?”

Jayce’s gaze is unwavering. ”Yeah, I would.”

They don’t have to wait in the long line at the exhibition entrance, thankfully; Jayce’s tickets take them straight past the velvet ropes and into the series of large rooms.

The Pandora exhibit is dark and filled with floor-to-wall imitations of its bioluminescent forest, the overall effect undeniably beautiful. Viktor slowly makes his way through the rooms, studying each and every item brought back from the planet itself. They look strange and exotic contained inside of neat little glass boxes, shined on by well-placed spotlights.

Jayce walks with him, pointing out certain things, and elaborating when he doesn’t find the exhibit’s descriptions satisfactory. He seems to possess an almost encyclopedic knowledge of Pandora.

“Did you also apply?” Viktor asks him.

Jayce shakes his head. “I didn’t, but I know I’ll end up there sooner or later — just like you.” His self-assuredness is surprising, but Viktor knows he should have expected it. They’ve only known each other for a little while, but he already knows — Jayce does everything with his whole heart.

“Ehh, thousands of students apply each year, and the program only accepts two,” he tells him.

“And you’re going to be one of them, I just know it.”

“Even so, I have to weigh it against my other options.”

Jayce stills. “Other... options?”

“Well, the University offered me a full scholarship, living expenses included, and one of Benzo’s associates is giving me a job close to there. It could... work out well for me, I think.”

“Oh, wow. I had no idea. That’s — new, and —” Jayce looks like he’s swallowed something terrible. “—would you ever choose that over Pandora?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor responds truthfully. It feels ludicrous to compare such dissimilar things: university, or the tiny chance that he’ll be allowed to travel to an alien planet 2.5 trillion miles away. “Even if I were accepted, who knows what’s waiting for me on Pandora?”

“Everything is waiting for you,” Jayce says, with such fervent conviction that it steals Viktor’s breath away.

Viktor gets in.

When he opens the secure email, he’s not sure what to expect. But there it is — acceptance into the Pandora New Scientists Program. He stares at it for a long time, not knowing how to feel.

So he can leave this place and go to Pandora, get an Avatar and finally be somewhere he can see the stars. The ambitions he’s had all these years should sprout and take root.

They don’t. Instead, he feels them wilt and fall into dust, because in truth — he doesn’t want to go. Not anymore.

Not without Jayce.

Viktor groans and runs his hands through his hair. Underneath his chair, Rio makes an inquiring noise and weaves around his ankles. It’s ridiculous, these emotions running through him. He knows it’s silly, his little crush on his friend. But when he thinks about leaving Jayce and never seeing him again, something in his chest clenches tightly and won’t let go.

Viktor stands, pushing his laptop away from him. It upsets the papers and tools on his desk, and they fall to the floor with a loud clatter, startling Rio, who runs across the room to retreat under the bed. He takes his cane and walks to the sink, turning on the faucet and splashing water on his face. He presses his hand over his mouth, feeling the cold cling to his eyelashes and drip slowly down his face.

Trying to ground himself. Trying to think.

He brings it up the next day. He and Jayce are sitting in his apartment with an array of Chinese takeout containers spread out onto the kitchen table, a surprise from Jayce. Viktor had tried and liked it once, a long time ago. He’s surprised they’re still open. Jayce is busy stuffing chow mein and sweet orange chicken into his mouth when Viktor sets down his chopsticks and steels himself.

“I got in,” he tells him quietly.

Jayce doesn’t even act surprised, just beams with pride with his mouth full of food, like Viktor’s acceptance was the only possible outcome. But his smile falls when he registers the expression on Viktor’s face. “V? What’s wrong?”

Viktor tightly grips the fabric of his pants with both hands, tonguing the back of his teeth for a moment, before opening his mouth and saying, “I don’t... think I’m going to go.”

Immediately, Jayce chokes and coughs, dropping his chopsticks and pounding his chest with his fist. Viktor nudges a glass of water towards him. Jayce downs it gratefully before trying to speak.

“Why?” he croaks, “I mean — is it the scholarship?” He looks at him with too-wide eyes.

“No. It’s not,” Viktor admits.

“What else could there be?”

Blush creeping up his neck and to his ears, Viktor tries to form the words, “It’s, eh —”

But he knows it’s useless. He could never say it out loud without feeling like a fool. He looks at Jayce and wishes he would understand.

Somehow, he does. Viktor watches as realization slowly spreads across his face.

“Is it because of me?” Jayce asks.

Viktor’s breath hitches. He nods, just once, and looks away.

“Oh, Viktor,” Jayce says, so tenderly it makes Viktor shiver. He startles as he feels a warm palm come up to softly cradle his cheek, thumb brushing at his cheekbone. He turns back to see Jayce staring back at him with open wonder. Something shifts into place inside of him. He relaxes and leans into it, his own hand coming up to cover Jayce’s.

“Jayce?” he murmurs. They lean in at the same time, lips meeting, slotting together like two perfect pieces. Viktor’s soul sings at the contact. He loses himself in it, feeling oddly forward. Their lips separate, then meet again. The corner of the table is in the way, and Viktor finds himself frustrated with the limitation. He stands, shifting his weight onto one leg, then moves around the table to straddle Jayce’s lap. Jayce makes a small noise of surprise, but his arms automatically wrap around Viktor, steadying his weight.

Something sad and desperate suddenly floods Viktor. He misses Jayce. He misses him so, so much. He doesn’t know where the thought is coming from, as Jayce has never left, but he channels that into his kisses, pressing his feelings into him. He shifts even closer, trying to meld them into one, and that grinds their pelvises together. They both groan. Viktor can almost feel —

Jayce gasps and pulls away, unbalancing Viktor. He winces as his lower back hits the edge of the table, cane falling to the ground with a clatter.

Jayce’s eyes are wide and guilty, his lips cherry-red and shiny. “I’m — I’m so sorry,” he stutters, “I don’t think we — not that —” He seems to run out of things to say, and lowers his head.

Viktor watches him. “Okay,” he finally says quietly. As he moves to get off of him, Jayce’s head snaps up.

“Wait, it’s not because of you, I swear. I can explain —”

“Then explain.”

Jayce opens his mouth. For a moment, Viktor thinks he’s going to say something, but then he closes it. Looks guilty. Viktor scoffs and shakes his head. He tries to bend down on one leg and retrieve his cane, but Jayce gets there before him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. Please, just — trust me,” Jayce says as he holds the cane out to him, eyes pleading. Viktor doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Trust Jayce? Who does he think he is, running into his life and taking it over like this? Turning into Viktor’s entire world?

Something cold and sobering washes over him. Of course he should have known better. He shouldn’t — he shouldn’t have let Jayce in. He shouldn’t have let anyone in.

Viktor is alone. He likes it that way.

“If you have nothing to say, then leave,” Viktor says, ignoring his own shaking voice, feeling sick.

For a second, Viktor thinks Jayce will refuse, but he does, turning around and moving past Viktor without another word. The door closes behind him with a barely audible click. When he’s gone, Viktor sits heavily on the floor and rests his head on his knees, curling into himself. He doesn't get up for a long, long time.

Jayce isn’t in class the next day. Or the next day, or the day after that. Viktor tries not to think about him, to no avail. And he doesn’t know how to respond to the acceptance letter. For the first time in his life, he’s truly lost; he doesn’t know what to do.

Mrs. Rosen stops him at the end of class and asks him if he’s heard anything from Jayce. Apparently he never notified the school about his absence. Viktor hesitates, then shakes his head. In a moment of weakness and against his better judgment, he sends Where are you? to Jayce. There’s no reply.

On the third night of Jayce’s absence, Viktor finds himself on the roof of his building. He’s had enough of laying in bed and staring up at his dark ceiling, unable to find sleep.

Years ago, when his mother had first passed away, Viktor couldn’t stand being inside the apartment. The roof was the only escape he could find, where he could stare at the lights of the city stretching out into the distance and pretend they were stars.

Now, he sits on the low concrete wall against the side of the entrance and cradles his searing-hot mug of (decaf) coffee between his hands. It’s his only comfort against the wind that makes him shiver every time it picks up and ruffles his clothes and hair.

When the door to the roof squeaks open, Viktor doesn’t react; it’s normal for smokers to be up here late at night, nursing their own demons.

Then the new arrival comes into view, and Viktor startles in surprise, hissing as several drops of coffee spill over the rim of the mug and onto his hand. It’s Jayce, blanket tucked under his arm, hesitant look on his face.

“Why are you here? Where were you?” Viktor hisses. Jayce winces and produces a napkin from his pocket. Viktor is too startled to stop him from dabbling away the stray drops of drink.

“I needed to talk to you,” Jayce says quietly. Shoving the napkin back into his pocket, he takes the blanket and drapes it over Viktor’s shoulders. It’s soft and warm, midnight blue on one side, red on the other.

It... feels nice, and soothes him somewhat. He hadn’t realized just how cold he was until Jayce arrived. Viktor grudgingly wraps the blanket tighter around himself before speaking. “And you come here, now? It’s one in the morning, Jayce. You’ve been missing for days.”

“I know, but — it’s important. I need to explain everything. I’m sorry I didn’t before. I thought that if I took myself out of the equation, you wouldn’t have a reason to stay on Earth. But I realized it was too dangerous to leave it like this. Things around you have... changed too much.”

“You’re not making any sense, Talis. What are you talking about?”

Jayce sighs. “Can I sit? Please?”

Viktor bites the inside of his lip. “Fine,” he allows.

Jayce sits close enough to brush their shoulders together. “You’re not going to believe me, at first,” he starts slowly, “You’re going to get very frustrated with me, then try to walk away. I just want you to know that this isn’t a joke. I’m completely serious, and —“ he stops and takes a deep breath, before continuing, “— I love you.”

At the admission, Viktor freezes, heart jumping skittishly in his chest. “Jayce? What is this?”

“None of this is real. We’re actually on Pandora right now, years in the future. You’re trapped inside the planet’s neural network, inside your memories, and I’m here to get you out.”

It takes a moment to process the words. His immediate reaction is to laugh, and he does, incredulousness bubbling inside of him and rising to the surface. It bursts when Jayce flinches and looks down at the ground, refusing to look at him.

It’s unnerving. “That’s all you’re going to say? Nothing else?”

Jayce shakes his head. “Not right now. If I say anything else, you’ll find it harder to accept.”

“Don’t act like you know me,” Viktor says, decidedly annoyed.

At that, a smile tugs at the corner of Jayce’s mouth. But he doesn’t say anything else.

Viktor scowls. Taking his cane, he stands and looks all around them. Feels the wind on his face, his presence inside of his own body.

“I think I’d be able to tell what’s real and what’s not, Jayce.”

“You can’t. It’s probably like being in a dream — you don’t know it’s not real until you wake up.” Jayce looks up. “I tried to jog your memory and see if you would remember, but you didn’t.”

“How?”

“The museum. You already knew a lot about Pandora before you left Earth, sure, but you don’t remember anything after it. I just thought you might. Sometimes you seemed like you remembered…” He looks away.

“Remember what, Jayce?” Viktor asks.

Jayce sighs. “Us,” he says, so quietly he almost can’t be heard over the wind, “Sometimes I thought you remembered us.”

Surely Jayce can’t be implying what he thinks he’s implying. Does he think they’re already together? Then Viktor realizes that he’s actually entertaining Jayce’s silly claims, and shakes his head.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffs. He paces in front of Jayce, thinking out loud. “Why didn’t you want to kiss me, then, if we’re together?”

Jayce swallows. “You’re nineteen right now. It’s not — right, to take advantage of you like that.”

“What does age have to do with it? You’re eighteen,” Viktor says, then remembers that Jayce mentioned the future. “So how old are you really?”

“Thirty-six,” Jayce replies dully, “I can change what I look like.”

“Prove it,” Viktor demands, “Change right now.”

To his surprise, Jayce doesn’t hesitate — he simply nods and closes his eyes. When nothing happens, he frowns as his hand comes up to rub at his jaw. “Oh, okay. Guess it doesn’t work here. I mean, I already looked like this when I got here.”

“Right. So you can’t prove anything you’re saying,” Viktor tries not to roll his eyes as he sits back down, pulling the blanket tighter. “Look, if you have regrets, that’s fine. But you don’t need to make up some kind of —” He waves his hand, “—ridiculous story to tell me.”

“I can prove it,” Jayce insists, then stops and squints at Viktor, like he’s trying to figure something out. “You’re not leaving.”

Viktor scoffs. “Why do you keep saying that? Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Jayce bursts out immediately. Then he repeats, softer this time, “No, please don’t. I just — you used to do that when there was a lot to deal with. You liked to be alone.”

Okay, Viktor allows grudgingly, That is true. He raises a brow. “And I don’t any more?”

“No, not since — oh.” Jayce’s eyes widen. A smile slowly spreads over his face; he practically glows with joy. Viktor stares, confused as to the sudden change in demeanor. “I get it now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Jayce says, almost dreamily, “The mating bond.”

Viktor stares at him. “The what?”

Jayce blinks, then flushes all over. Even in the low lights of the city, Viktor can see the pink tinge on his face. “I should, uh, probably start at the beginning.”

“Please do.”

They're back inside his apartment, sitting next to each other on the bed. Viktor’s hunched over, elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands. He hasn't said anything since Jayce finished his explanation minutes ago, other than a few mutterings as he processed every insane claim in his head. Jayce is fretting next to him, clearly unwilling to be the one to break the silence.

Viktor finally sighs heavily, his entire body moving under the force of it. “So let me get this correct. You’re saying — we’re part of the Avatar program.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Jayce nod.

“And on a whim, we decided to undergo a completely irreversible process that connects us forever without knowing the side effects.”

Jayce groans. “You don’t have to say it like that,” he complains, “There were a lot of different factors. I didn’t tell you everything.” He wilts under Viktor’s gaze.

Viktor continues, saying, “And to save you, I sacrificed myself, side effects unknown. Then to save me, you also sacrificed yourself. You apparently also know every single moment of my life, which could cause you untold amounts of neurological damage. Am I leaving anything out?”

“No, that's pretty much it — the basics,” Jayce says weakly.

“You can’t expect me to believe all of this.”

“But it’s true,” Jayce insists, “I know you feel it too. Before I got here, you must have felt like something was missing. Then you felt whole again the day we met. That’s because in the real world, I came to you — shortened the physical distance between us. It’s the bond. That’s why we were so drawn to each other when you first saw me in the classroom. And these emotions that you don’t understand, like they came from somewhere else — they’re from me. We can feel each other's emotions, if they're strong enough.”

Viktor hums. “Sounds like bad science fiction.”

Jayce laughs and flops backwards onto the bed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He looks hopefully at Viktor. “So do you believe me?”

Viktor thinks, tapping his fingers on the edge of the mattress. “I admit that your theory is... mildly plausible, impossible as it is. However, I require further proof. I can’t go off of emotions alone — there could be any number of explanations for them.”

Jayce runs a hand through his hair and sits up. “Okay. I can make pretty much anything appear.”

“What? Like magic?”

“Uh, yeah, basically. You know how you can do anything in a dream? It’s kind of like that.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t look at me like that. Watch —” Jayce focuses and holds his arms out in front of him, palms facing up. Viktor squints.

Suddenly, there’s a comically gigantic hammer in Jayce’s hands. One moment, it wasn’t there — then suddenly, it was. The head of it falls to the ground as soon as it appears, Jayce barely able to support its weight.

“Jayce, is that a... giant hammer?”

Jayce beams, looking very proud of his giant hammer, which has to be nearly as tall as he is.

“That is... quite a party trick,” Viktor comments carefully. Is he compensating for something?

“You’re thinking about my dick, aren’t you.”

“Of course not. It’s just... such a large hammer.”

Jayce laughs. “I wanted to be a superhero with a giant hammer when I was a kid.”

Viktor tilts his head. “You also said that you wanted to be a magician when you were younger. It could be a trick.”

Jayce groans. “V, c’mon. Just — anything. Ask me for anything.”

Viktor hums thoughtfully. “Anything that would make me believe you.”

Rio chooses that moment to jump onto the bed with a quiet meow. Jayce smiles and scratches behind her ears.

“You found Rio behind a dumpster behind the building when you were eight,” he says fondly, “She was so dirty you didn’t know she was a calico cat until you gave her a bath. She scratched your arm during it. You still have the scar.” Viktor glances down at the faint line on his forearm. “You named her Rio because you had a map of South America open, and she stepped on Rio de Janeiro with her wet paw. You said it was her way of telling you her name.”

Viktor swallows. It appears that Jayce does possess knowledge of his life. Perhaps all of it, like he claimed. He pushes the implications to the back of his mind. “That’s — very detailed. And correct.”

“When you leave for Pandora, you leave Rio with Mrs. Dvorak down the hall.”

“What happens to her?”

“You don’t know — you never find out. But sometimes, you like to look at this picture.” Jayce hands something to him. Viktor recognizes it. It’s a photograph his mother took of him. In it, he holds Rio in his arms, smiling shyly at the camera. Quietly, Viktor reaches under the bed and pulls out a box. He shifts through it until he finds what he’s looking for, and pulls out another photograph, holding both of them up to the light to compare them.

They’re the exact same image.

Oh.

Viktor’s hands tremble. He looks toward Jayce, who looks back carefully, evidently waiting for his reaction.

Viktor swallows and looks back at the pictures. Now that he’s looking more closely, he realizes the one Jayce handed him looks slightly older, one corner creased. When he turns it over, he sees the year it was taken and his age at the time, inscribed in thick black marker.

“When you left for Pandora, you wrote that so you wouldn’t forget.”

Viktor doesn’t answer. He thinks carefully on what Jayce has told him, and weighs the proof he holds in his hands. Finally, he says quietly, “It just doesn’t seem possible — that I escaped this place and did all those things you said I did. Those things — they don’t happen to people like me. And that someone would —” he breaks off, unable to continue.

Jayce shifts closer and places a hand on his back, solid and reassuring. “I know how you feel right now, your fears, your doubts. I understand — all of it.”

“And how do I feel?” He watches Jayce fidget.

“I don’t think I should —”

“Tell me.”

“All... of it?”

“Yes.”

”You don’t want to hear that.”

”I do.”

Jayce sighs deeply and opens his mouth. “You can’t believe that someone would do something like this for you. You think that you’re alone, and you’re afraid of what other people would think if they knew how much you wanted to be cared for. But I’ve seen it all, Viktor, every single second of your life, all the parts of yourself you think you need to hide. I loved you before, and I still do.”

Viktor bites the inside of his lip and looks away. He didn’t realize how much it would scare him, to have it said so plainly. He tries to surreptitiously wipe away a tear starting to slide down his cheek, but Jayce catches it — because of course he does, producing a tissue out of thin air and handing it to him.

“It’s okay,” is all Jayce says, which just makes it worse.

“Mmn,” Viktor mumbles, after he’s blown his nose and made himself more presentable. “I don’t — think it’s fair that you know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you,” he says, trying to change the subject.

That earns him a startled laugh. “Um, okay. Ask away.”

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Favorite food.”

“Anything homemade,” Jayce grins.

“How did you end up on Pandora?”

“It’s a long story, but — it was my fault that someone died in a lab accident. I wanted to run away from my guilt, so I ran all the way to Pandora.”

“And did it work?”

Jayce grimaces. “Sort of, but not really. When I thought about my work, all I could see was that girl’s face.” His hand finds Viktor’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “But you helped me see how much my invention helped people, that something good could still come out of it.”

Staring down at their hands, Viktor thinks. “You didn’t tell me why we decided to bind ourselves together. I don’t see how it was necessary, if we were already close.”

Jayce raises and lowers one shoulder, cheeks pink. “We said it was for science, but we just didn’t want to be pulled apart. Now we can feel it no matter how far apart we are. I’m glad we did it — it’s probably the only reason I found you here.”

“So what do we do now? How do we leave?”

“Well, I was told — you have to leave for Pandora, I’m guessing by following your original memories as closely as possible. Join the program, then board the ship. Until you do, I stay close and make sure nothing else changes. The university scholarship, the new job, Aleksy’s attitude —” He makes a face. “They didn't happen. Pandora was always your only goal — you never had any backup plans. I hope the... uncertainty is just a symptom of being lost inside of Eywa. Either way, we have to get you on that ship when the time comes.”

“That... sounds simple enough.” Viktor says. But he sees Jayce hesitate. “What is it?”

Jayce doesn’t answer. Instead, he produces a pencil and pad of paper and starts muttering to himself, drawing circles and equations on the page. Viktor can’t make sense of the diagrams.

“Jayce?”

“It might not be so easy. You explained it to me in one of your theories, when we were talking about practical applications of our work — memory recovery. Gaining back memories might feel like you’re reliving them all over again.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean — it might not happen. You don’t have amnesia. You’re more... putting yourself back together. The best case scenario is that it’s instantaneous. The worst case scenario — you relive them in real time.”

“How many years would that be, exactly?”

“....Fifteen years, not including cryosleep.”

Fifteen years. Almost as long as he’s been alive. An entire lifetime. But if he could —

“When do you get to Pandora?”

Jayce swallows. “Viktor —”

“Tell me.”

“Fourteen,” Jayce whispers, and Viktor feels his heart drop into his stomach. “I got to Pandora a year ago. I’m so sorry, Viktor — I took too long to get there.”

“Then where will you be, while this is happening?”

“Probably waiting for you on the outside. Time works differently here. For me in the real world, it could pass in a matter of minutes or hours, but for you —”

“It could be an eternity,” Viktor finishes. He can see it now — the years stretching in front of him, knowing who was waiting for him on the other side.

“I can change it,” he says unsteadily, “Contact you earlier and convince you to come to Pandora sooner —”

“I’m... not sure if you can. I don’t think you’ll be able to change anything, if at all.”

Despair swirls inside of Viktor, both his and Jayce’s, compounding in reaction to the other until it grows to fill every crevice of Viktor’s being.

“You just found me again. You can’t leave. You can’t.”

“Vik —”

Viktor suddenly heaves. “No. No —” He tries to turn away, but is instead pulled into a hug against Jayce’s chest. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until a broad warm hand strokes along his back, soothing him. Against his cheek, he can feel the steady rise and fall of Jayce’s chest.

“Viktor, breathe,” Jayce says from somewhere above him.

He doesn’t want to breathe. After so many unfeeling years alone, all he wants to do is scream and cry. But something about Jayce’s tone calms him. So he takes a deep breath and finally fills his lungs with air. Exhausted, he slumps against Jayce, who tightens his arms around him.

Jayce Talis. The one person who’s seen every moment of his life. Every place he cried where his mother couldn’t hear him. Every awkward, cruel thing he’s ever done. He was with him all along.

Viktor clears his throat. “I’m fine,” he says, slightly muffled in the fabric of Jayce’s shirt, “You can stop now.” He flushes when Jayce places a kiss on the top of his head.

“No, you’re not,” Jayce says.

“I — I don’t think I can do it,” Viktor admits quietly.

“You did it before. And you can do it again. Viktor, you’re the strongest person I know.”

Viktor doesn’t know what to say to that, and doubts he ever has. “Was I lonely? Without you?”

“Not always. There are people who you come to care for like family.”

“But no one like you. And now you’re — leaving.”

Jayce shifts to grip both of his shoulders, unyielding and determined. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll never leave you. That feeling from the bond, that you’re not alone anymore? It’ll always be there, no matter how far apart we are. I’ll be waiting right next to you, even if you can’t see or hear me.”

After that, there’s nothing more to say. Through the window, the sky starts to lighten. It’s the early hours of the morning, and they’re both exhausted. A pale, cold light hits the glass panes and weaves its way down the windowsill onto the bed, over Viktor and Jayce, lying in each other’s arms.

The spaceport is crowded and filled with people rushing to and fro. Viktor has to take care not to step into someone’s way and get knocked over, though Jayce steps in the way of anyone who could, hovering over him.

The massive ship that will take him to Pandora looms above them, dwarfing everything around it. The last of the shipments are being loaded, and Viktor’s bag is already on it, filled with the few belongings he wanted to take with him.

They're both silent and tense as they move through the crowd until they reach the entry gate. Viktor looks toward the wide door. Beyond it yawns a metal corridor leading into the bowels of the ship, like the maw of some creature, ready to swallow him whole.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot,” Jayce says as he reaches into his pocket, pulling Viktor’s attention away, “Here.” Viktor holds out his hand, and Jayce gives him what appears to be a small pile of plastic stars. “They’re glow-in-the-dark stars, for your room. The night sky isn’t exactly the same over there — just in case you wanted to remember the one on Earth.”

Viktor looks at the small pieces in his hand. He knows they will glow forever if exposed to sunlight. His fingers curl around them, and he puts them into his own pocket. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

He looks back up towards Jayce. Without words, they step closer, and Jayce leans forward to kiss him. It’s a chaste one, without heat, but Viktor closes his eyes and trembles all the same; for him, this is only their second kiss.

“Jayce,” Viktor whispers when they break away, still sharing the same air, “I’m scared. What if I get there — and you never come?”

“I’ll be there. I’m always with you.” Jayce assures him, his eyes bright with unshed emotion. Viktor can’t bear to look away.

“What do I look like? When I’m older?” he asks, hating his insecurities.

Jayce smiles. “You’re beautiful, V. A little older, a little wiser, but you’re still you. And your eyes, they just —” he sighs as he looks at Viktor. “They’re the first thing I noticed about you. They’re brilliant, intelligent, driven — I knew you were everything the first time I saw you.”

Everything.

Viktor swallows. “And what do you look like?”

“Umm, I’m a little broader, I guess. I grow a beard — you like that a lot. You told me you liked my ‘rugged good looks’ —”

He’s interrupted by the intercom overhead. Last call for boarding.

When Viktor doesn’t move, Jayce gently touches his arm and smiles encouragingly, but his eyes hold a deep sadness. For the first time, Viktor can see an older Jayce staring out from behind them. Why couldn’t he see it before?

“Viktor, I promise you — right now, we’re lying side by side under the Tree of Souls and inside our units. Our friends and family are waiting for us. You’re going to make it out, I know it. But first — you have to leave. You have to get on the ship. This is your only chance.”

Viktor nods stiffly. If he opens his mouth and tries to speak, he knows he’ll burst into tears and collapse at Jayce’s feet.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself, trying to summon all of the bravery Jayce has shown him, again and again and again. He can see it now, the hidden messages, the patterns: Jayce needs him just as much as he needs Jayce. They are bound together forever; he loves him.

He turns and walks across the platform and towards the door, his stride stumbling a little as he fights the urge to turn around and run back. If he sees Jayce now — his kind eyes, his wonderful heart — he’ll never be able to leave.

But as he reaches the threshold, he fails. He looks behind him. Right where he left him is Jayce, still standing there, still watching him.

Jayce gives him a thumbs-up. See you soon, he mouths. Viktor lets out a shaky laugh. What a silly man.

Then he blinks, and Jayce is gone.

Viktor swallows. That's it, then, he thinks. He turns back towards the door, and enters.

Everything fades around him the moment he steps onto the ship. Months pass by. Years pass by. He reaches Pandora. Toils for years to complete his research and build the NeuralCore.

He misses his Jayce. Even though he knows no one will answer, he sends messages to Earth whenever the loneliness is too much to bear, addressed to Jayce and only Jayce. Their time together feels unreal, like a dream that never happened; the byproduct of a lonely mind.

But he can feel it, deep inside. It’s as Jayce said — that sense of wholeness, that he’s not alone. The feeling stays with him even in his darkest moments, soothes him when he feels time stretching out impossibly far in front of him, the weight of the years he still has left to go.

Then, it finally happens. His Avatar is approved, because someone will be joining him. Viktor’s heart soars when Dr. Singed says his name out loud: Jayce Talis. Already on his way to Pandora. The next six years pass by in the blink of an eye. Viktor barely notices. All he can think of is Jayce, Jayce, Jayce.

The day the transport arrives, Viktor is already on the tarmac hours before, cane clutched white-knuckled in his grip, watching the sky with trepidation. Finally, the transport arrives. The large door opens. Before he can see who’s inside, he rushes to it, stumbling slightly in his half-run.

“Jayce,” he calls, “Jayce!” His cane catches on uneven ground and he falls, scraping his palms raw on the uneven asphalt, eyes squeezing shut at the pain.

Get up! Viktor screams at himself, Go!

He grits his teeth and —

— opened his eyes.

Vague shapes of blue and green danced in front of him. He was lying on something soft, someone touching the side of his face. A familiar feeling.

He blinked, and the tears clouding his vision fell from his eyes and rolled down his face. He blinked some more, and after an eternity, a face came into view. Blue and alien, yet more familiar than words could ever express.

“Jayce,” Viktor rasped. He remembered everything. JayceandViktor. ViktorandJayce.

“Viktor,” Jayce whispered, eyes shining with tears, “You made it.”

“My Jayce,” Viktor murmured, moving closer. In the near distance, they could hear Ekko and Tatsyetsì shouting, but they paid it no mind. Even when anchored in reality, they were lost in their own world.

By the Love which moves the sun and the other stars, Viktor thought. They were together, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

The sun is bright and smothering with its oven-like heat, causing the back of Jayce’s shirt to dampen with sweat. He had gone on this trip in early July, and now he remembers why that had been a bad idea.

He lounges against the convertible door, suffering, until Viktor arrives, an elegant and lanky figure with a pair of sunglasses perched on his head, dressed in jeans and a red-collared shirt that brings out the gold in his eyes.

Jayce blinks.

That shirt is a particular shade of red. Not carmine or scarlet, but a deep, rusty red. Viktor had seen it in a movie once, on one of the rare occasions he had gone to the cinema. The theater showed old movies, classics from the previous millennium. A young Viktor, alone because his mother had worked a double shift that day, sat silently in the darkness and watched a tall man ride his horse along the edges of the smeared horizon. Even from a distance, he was easily distinguishable in his red shirt. Viktor envied that easy freedom —

Jayce returns to reality with a small shake of his head. From the look on Viktor’s face, it hadn’t escaped his notice. He presses on anyway.

“Hey there, stranger,” he says, and tilts his shades down to fix him with a coy look, “Fancy a ride?”

A little smile lifts the worry from Viktor’s face. He steps forward to tuck the sharp line of his hip against Jayce’s side, their chests brushing. “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Anywhere you want,” Jayce promises. His hand finds its way to Viktor’s waist, its favorite place in the world.

Viktor hums. “Suprise me.” And when Jayce tries to kiss him — “What do you think you’re doing, stranger?”

Jayce huffs and shakes his head, trying not to laugh. ”Payment,” he says, “for the ride.”

Viktor pretends to think. “A high price, but I’ll pay it,” he finally says, and lets Jayce close the distance.

Jayce presses his lips across the delicate bones of Viktor’s face, down towards his neck. Viktor is so alive, so good and warm and sweet; he can’t resist.

“Jayce,” Viktor sighs, pulse thrumming against his lips. Jayce grins into his neck and nips him the same moment his hand slides down.

Viktor yelps and places a palm on Jayce’s chest, leaning back to look him in the eyes, laughing.

“Later,” he insists, even as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He pulls away, playfully batting away Jayce’s wandering hands, and hoists himself over the door and into the passenger seat. “Now drive, please.”

The wind rushes up to meet them as Jayce pulls out of the turnout at speed. It keeps them nice and cool as they go fast enough to outrun the sun itself. The ocean glitters harmoniously on the horizon, and if Jayce peeks his head over the side, he can see the place where the waves meet the shore. These are their favorite kinds of memories. Here at the intersection of wind, sky, and earth — here they are free. A gloomy sky had rushed in the day after this, but today is not that day.

They drive for a while in a comfortable and familiar silence. Jayce sneaks a look at Viktor. His eyes are closed behind his shades, head tilted back to savor the fresh summer breeze.

Montauk was the first time Viktor had ever seen the ocean. The sky was overcast, and every so often, a stray droplet landed on his skin. His mother, trying to hide her worry, laid the blanket out on the sand. Struggling to maneuver his cane over the shifting grains, Viktor toed off his shoes and socks, walking out to meet the tide. His toes dug into the wet sand, and he shrieked in surprise when a freezing cold wave made contact with his legs —

The car swerves a little on the straight stretch of highway. Jayce startles and grips the wheel. Viktor doesn’t seem to have noticed, his eyes still closed.

Jayce swallows and keeps driving until Viktor breaks the silence with an inquisitive hum. ”Have they finished the final preparations?”

Jayce nods. ”Tatsyetsì says they have. He came around while you were still sleeping — he says hi, by the way — and I showed him the renovations we’ve made. He had a few more suggestions, but they’re easy enough to implement.”

Viktor nods. “And Ximena?”

”I told her. She just wants what’s best for the both of us.”

Viktor is quiet for a moment. “Good.”

The highway exit leads them down to the cove. Closer to the water, the sounds of the waves sweep over them, an overwhelming, all-encompassing sensation. They park and make the short hike to the beach. Viktor starts to run with his strong, healthy legs, but looks back and slows to match his pace. They meet each other halfway and step out onto the sand.

As the sun begins to set, they light the campfire and curl under a large blue-red blanket. The night washes over them, and the stars emerge.

It's peaceful. A place to forget all their problems, at least for a little while.

Viktor sighs and rests his head against Jayce’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jayce,” he says, “I missed doing this with you.”

“Me too,” Jayce admits. He presses his face into Viktor’s soft brown hair and sighs, breathing him in. The bond between them is calm. Secure. He feels Viktor shift, and turns to press their mouths together. Like celestial bodies and gravitational pull, they draw closer together until there’s no separation between them underneath the blanket.

“Now?” Jayce asks, his hands reaching, down, down, down.

Viktor cheeks tinge a lovely pink, and he smiles, beautiful and precious in the firelight. “Now.”

Jayce was in the new lab when Caitlyn walked in. The newly-constructed building had taller ceilings and bigger everything — wider tables and sturdier chairs, custom-sized tools for larger palms, and a built-in system that allowed the atmosphere in the lab to change between Pandoran and Terran.

“Cait,” Jayce greeted as she pulled him into a hug, “You get here okay?”

She nodded and set down the package she was carrying. “It’s not too far from the base, but I don’t understand why you don’t just move closer.”

”I told you already — we like it here.”

Caitlyn opened the package to reveal the food inside. “From Vi. She says hi, by the way.”

Jayce grinned and selected a single pancake from the spread, humming with pleasure as he took a large bite. “Awesome, V’s favorite. Tell Vi we said thanks.”

Caitlyn fondly rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. It’s your favorite, too.” Then she hesitated and looked carefully at him. “And how is Viktor?”

Good question. Jayce twisted his wedding ring around his finger as he tried to think of an answer.

“He has his good and bad days,” he finally admitted, “Needs a lot of rest now. Using the wheelchair more. His spine and leg…” He trailed off and looked towards the old lab across the clearing, where he knew his partner was. Though the bond assured him that he was close, that all was well, he still worried.

“He’s hanging in there. I just — I don’t want to see him hurting anymore.”

A hand on his shoulder. “He’s alive because of you, Jayce. Everything will turn out alright. You’ll see.”

Jayce sighed. “Yeah. Thanks, Cait.”

“Ah — ah — !”

”Vik — shit.” Jayce shifted his weight, trying to arrange them properly.

“No, don’t,” Viktor whimpered, “Inside, stay inside —” His arms were like tree roots clutching at Jayce, buried deep in the earth and unwilling to let go.

”I know, I know, I’m trying,” Jayce soothed breathlessly, “We just have to be careful.”

He made sure Viktor was lying in a comfortable position on the bed, pillows supporting his back and leg. Then, still panting from their earlier exertion, he slowly lowered the upper half of his body to rest against Viktor’s. Lying chest-to-chest, he felt his slowly softening cock twitch inside of Viktor, soaking in his own spend. His partner liked it best this way, holding Jayce inside where he could be certain he wasn’t going anywhere. And to be honest — Jayce liked it too, more than he could ever express. The little aftershocks of Viktor shivering around him from deeply satisfying sex, watching Viktor doze peacefully in the aftermath; he loved it all.

The second time they slept together was inside his room. It was much quieter than their torrid first time in the lab — slow, deep, and sensual. Jayce was determined to take his time, holding Viktor’s hips down and slowly rutting into him. Viktor begged for more, but didn’t fight it. In truth, he would let Jayce do anything to him, as long as he stayed —

Jayce felt a hand cup the side of his face, and opened his eyes to see Viktor staring up at him.

“Jayce… come back to me,” Viktor said softly. The pillow was wet with tears that had escaped during their lovemaking.

“I’m here. I’ll never leave you,” Jayce promised. He placed a careful kiss in the center of Viktor’s palm. “Any pain?”

”No,” Viktor murmured. Sleep was starting to enter his voice. “Just a little sore. Can you — a little more?”

Jayce watched his face closely for signs of discomfort; there was none. He relaxed little by little until he was drowsing, his full and solid weight on top of Viktor, who sighed and melted bonelessly into the sheets, breaths evening out. His insides flexed around Jayce, feeling the shape nested so perfectly inside of him. Their lips found each other, kissing lazily, exploring the texture of each other’s skin.

I’m not going to lose him again, Jayce thought to himself. I’m not going to lose him again. I’m not going to lose him again.

Still inside, Jayce closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Jayce found himself lying on the ground. He was inside the old lab, the monitor on his wrist still beeping. Viktor was standing over him, leaning on his crutch and crouched as low as he could go, which was undoubtedly painful.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah, I… think so,” he answered. When his monitor had beeped, he had immediately set down his tools and found a safe place on the ground. Now, he looked at the readout on the little screen and grimaced.

“They’re getting worse,” Viktor said quietly.

“I know,” Jayce said as he pushed himself to a sitting position. Viktor’s hand twitched, but he made no move to help him up; Jayce had expressively forbidden him from helping during or after these occurrences, lest he hurt himself trying to move Jayce. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay soon.”

“If you say so,” Viktor replied dully.

Viktor’s mother wheezed all night and all day. They couldn’t afford the lung treatments that wouldn’t have saved her life, but could have eased her suffering. He rubbed her back as gently as he could, holding the bed pan out in front of her. You should be at school, his mother croaked out, purulent phlegm dripping down her chin. Viktor shook his head and retrieved a cloth to wipe it away —

“Jayce.” Viktor was looking at him.

“Hmm?” He tried to play it off.

“What was it? This time?”

Ah, well. Jayce was silent for a moment. “Your mother, when she was sick,” he finally said, “It wasn’t her dying that scared you the most —”

“It was her suffering,” Viktor finished quietly. He didn’t need to say anything else. He limped over to his chair and sat down heavily. “Have they been getting worse, too? The — leftover memories?”

Jayce frowned. “I don’t mind,” he said stubbornly. The visions were of Viktor, and he could never regret that.

Viktor’s shoulders tensed, but he allowed Jayce to approach and lay his head in Viktor’s lap. He stroked his hand through Jayce’s hair, humming a tune Jayce knew he couldn’t remember the name of. But Jayce knew. He knew all the songs.

“Surprise!” Everyone in the Last Drop cried out.

”Okay, okay, enough,” Jayce laughed, wheeling Viktor in, “I think I’ve been to enough surprises here to know when it’s my turn.”

“It’s your first birthday here on Pandora — it’s important,” Caitlyn insisted as she handed them each a drink. She was wearing a party hat on her head, always silver, just like she did when she was a little girl.

The first birthday Viktor could remember involved a chocolate cupcake, freshly baked. It sat a little lopsided, but —

“It was you!” Powder cried out, pointing accusingly at the present Viktor held in his lap.

Viktor shook the box and smiled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him what was in it.”

”Ugh, you two are so boring,” Powder complained, but she was grinning as she stepped aside to reveal the cake. There was a charming doodle of Jayce’s face in frosting, beard and all. “Ta-dah! Vi baked it. I decorated.”

Viktor nodded approvingly. “Good work. And chocolate, too. My favorite.”

“Whose cake is it, yours or mine?” Jayce complained, surprised and touched that Vi had splurged for something as hard to get as cocoa beans.

“Just wait until it’s your birthday,” he told Vi.

“Hah! Bring it on, pretty boy.”

It was a small and intimate affair in the bar that night. He and Viktor had no taste for crowds, so it was only their closest friends and associates. Jayce was pleased, however, to see Mel walk in about an hour into the festivities.

Viktor hurried to Mel, breathless, practically giddy. The prototype had worked! Successful memory extraction, Ambessa Medarda none the wiser. But Mel must have seen something else in him, because she refused to discuss the mission until he had assured her that Rictus and her mother had not harmed him. After finally handing her the file, he was pulled into a crushing hug. “Thank you, Viktor,” Mel whispered, “This means everything.”

“Boys,” she greeted them, holding a neatly-wrapped gift under one arm, “I’m afraid I’m fashionably late.”

”You’re just in time,” Jayce assured her. “I thought you were still doing damage control at Base D.”

Mel sighed and set her present down. “That’s been solved, finally, thanks to Elora. She says hi, by the way.”

Viktor, who had refused to relinquish his own present, spoke up. “Mel and I coordinated our gifts.” He set it gently next to hers. “You should open them together.”

Jayce did. Viktor’s present was a full set of paints and a large palette, while Mel’s present was a set of large and sturdy brushes, much too large for human hands.

“We wished to formally invite you to our painting sessions,” Mel said seriously, “Viktor tells me you’re quite an artist yourself, and would — oh!” Jayce had wrapped her up in a big hug.

“Thank you, guys,” he said when he pulled away, “I really appreciate it. Best present ever.” His hand found Viktor’s shoulder and rubbed it, swallowing. Were his eyes wet? No. They definitely weren’t.

Viktor smiled softly up at him. “We’ve adapted the brushes and other tools to better suit Na’vi hands. We’re going to be the pilot study.”

Viktor looked at the painting of Yellowstone he was working on with a critical eye. He couldn’t tell if it was good or not anymore. Would Jayce like it? Would he know what Viktor was trying to say, what he meant by it?

Jayce felt Viktor squeeze his hand. He blinked and smiled, hoping Mel hadn’t noticed his lapse of attention. “Okay, but you’re going to have to go easy on me. I’m more of a pencil and paper kind of guy.”

”The basics, then,” Mel agreed warmly.

“You didn’t tell anyone about my sketchbook, did you?” Jayce asked Viktor under his breath when Mel was out of earshot. He had finally shown it to Viktor, filled with sketches drawn over the course of their partnership — Viktor’s profile, Viktor’s clever smile, Viktor deep in thought, Viktor in the middle of an unorthodox experiment. It wasn’t a secret — Caitlyn knew about it, unfortunately — but still.

Viktor made a noise of mock outrage. “Never, Jayce! But I do think you should reconsider my suggestion to frame some pieces.”

“It’s embarrassing!” Jayce groaned.

“It’s sweet,” Viktor protested, crooking his finger at him. Jayce sighed, smiling, and leaned down so Viktor could kiss his cheek. The bond between them shone with warmth. In revenge, Jayce lifted Viktor’s left hand and kissed his wedding ring, enjoying his nervous stutter.

Then there was cake. Supervised by Silco, Vi carefully cut it into even slices and dispersed them. Viktor was allowed three slices right off the bat, and he inhaled them with a gleam in his eye Jayce knew only desserts could create. After Jayce had finished his share, he was cajoled into making a short speech — which he was not very good at. Scripted presentations for investors? No problem. But heartfelt speeches? Definitely not. He stood in front of everyone and nervously clutched at his glass. Viktor gave him an encouraging smile.

“Um, hey, guys. Today I turned thirty-seven. Which is not a lot of time, relatively. But I’ve learned a lot since I stepped foot on this planet. From all of you, and —“ he looked at Viktor, whose cheeks were beginning to pinken, “From this guy in particular.”

He cleared his throat and continued, “We’ll look a little different the next time you see us. But it’s going to be the same us, I promise. We’ll be here if you need us. And yes, you’re the first to know — we’re officially opening spots for the NeuralCore — Avatars only!”

He smiled sheepishly as everyone cheered and congratulated him and Viktor. It had been years since he had gotten this much attention, and he had been a wreck, then. But this time, it felt good and warm.

“What are you going to do with your bodies, and why are you going to eat them?” Powder suddenly called out.

”Eww, Powder, gross!” Vi gagged. Caitlyn blanched and agreed.

Next to them, Ekko looked deep in thought. “I mean, we could always preserve —“ He was shouted down by the rest of the room, Mel doing a poor job of hiding her smile behind her hand.

“Okay, alright! More cake, anyone?” Jayce called over the chaos. Viktor wheeled himself forward and primly held his hand out for a fourth slice.

In the middle of the night, Jayce awoke to feel Viktor shifting towards him.

“V?” he said sleepily, “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?” He moved to get up, but felt Viktor shake his head.

Jayce hesitated, then settled back into the sheets, slowly blinking sleep from his eyes. He and Viktor laid there in the quiet, pressed close together, the sounds of their breaths mingling with the sounds of the Pandoran night outside the lab.

“Are you afraid?” Viktor asked quietly, his body tense against Jayce’s side.

”Never,” Jayce said, “Not if I’m with you.”

Their hands found each other in the darkness, and held on.

The chopper set down on uneven ground with a rough shudder, jostling everyone on it. Jayce immediately looked toward Viktor, bundled up in his seat, crutch at his side. He didn’t look like he was in pain, but still — Jayce worried. In their current human forms, the Pandoran forest at night was large and overwhelming, striking fear Jayce never had as an Avatar. But it didn’t seem to bother Viktor. A light had entered his eyes, quiet and certain.

The Omatikaya clan was gathered in tight rows all around the Tree of Souls, looking in the direction of the chopper. Jayce had never seen so many of them in one place.

He helped Viktor down and made sure his crutch supported his weight. Viktor wanted to walk to the tree under his own power, and Jayce couldn't begrudge him that.

”Are you sure?” Jayce had to ask, just to make sure.

“Yes,” Viktor smiled through his rebreather mask, “I’m fine now. Really, Jayce.”

Jayce stayed glued to his side, careful to catch him if he stumbled. But Viktor didn’t. He took a step, moved his crutch, then took another step, until they were moving through the crowd and towards the tree, Ekko and Vi following behind them in their Avatars.

Some of the Na’vi were familiar faces, but most were not. All the same, they greeted him and Viktor in the traditional way as they passed, and they returned the gesture. They would get to know them later, listen to their stories.

The Tree of Souls loomed over the clearing with its glowing, softly waving tendrils. The Tsahik stood under it. In front of her lay his and Viktor’s Avatars curled up on the ground, eyes closed and facing each other. Luminescent fibers laced around their bodies like webbing, connecting them to the tree. There was just enough space between them for Jayce and Viktor to lie down.

“Is it safe to transfer at the same time?” Jayce asked tentatively after they had made their greetings. Viktor was staring at the scene with an unreadable expression on his face. But Jayce knew what he was feeling. He could feel it through the bond — excitement, and growing joy.

”You go together,” the Tsahik said. She motioned to Tatsyetsì, who came forward and presented them with two intricate but short strands of string. Both featured a beautifully large, purple bead with the translucency of seaglass. The color reminded Jayce of the Tree of Souls. “Songcords represent memory. When you join the People and begin your lives, you will add more memories to the songcord. This is our gift to you.”

“Thank you,” Viktor said, voice quiet and reverent. Jayce received his and stared at it. What could he add? An idea slowly formed in his mind. He gently removed his wedding ring from his finger and wrapped it in the cord, tying it securely. Next to him, Viktor did the same. They held their cords close to each other and admired the symmetry; a ring of white gold; a ring of yellow gold; another promise on top of all their promises.

“Our first memory. And not the last,” Viktor said softly as he let his crutch fall to the ground. He stood there, swaying slightly, but standing under his own power.

“Never,” Jayce answered. He had already devoted one lifetime, and now he would devote another lifetime more. He stepped into it, with purpose and unending love, knowing Viktor would do the same for him without question.

They disrobed and lay down in the circle created by their Avatars, eyes only for each other.

“Do you remember? The first time we met?” Jayce whispered to him.

Viktor gave a short laugh. “I was so cruel to you.”

”You pretended you didn’t know me,” Jayce teased.

“I didn’t — know you, that is.”

”And look at us now.”

They grinned at each other.

“See you soon,” Jayce whispered.

”See you soon,” echoed Viktor. The glowing fibers lit his golden eyes as it wove itself over both of their bodies. Like distant constellations, connected and growing ever closer.

Holding each other’s hands, they bowed their heads together, closed their eyes, and the chanting started.