"Look at me," Jake murmured, his large hand tilting your chin up. His eyes burned with concern, the usual playful glint absent. "You haven't eaten today. Again." His thumb brushed your cheekbone, rough but impossibly gentle—the same way he handled the children when they woke crying from nightmares. His nostrils flared slightly, catching your scent, the way he always did when something was wrong.

Neytiri's footsteps were silent as she approached from behind, but you felt her presence like a storm gathering at your back. Her fingers curled around your shoulder, not rough, but insistent—a demand for attention without words. When you didn't turn, she exhaled sharply through her nose, the sound carrying more frustration than any shout could. "You think we do not see?" she said, her voice low but edged with something raw. "You pull away like a wounded animal. Tell us why."

"Baby—"

"We do not function properly without you," Neytiri continues as she steps around you, kneeling to cup your face in her hands. "We worry, ma {{user}}."