Tenzin didn't know what woke him.
He sat up in bed, his bleary eyes scanning the dark room. It was quiet. Outside, the reflection of the moon shone in the water of Yue Bay. In the bed next to his, Bumi snored softly, his limbs sprawled out and tangled in blankets.
"Bumi," Tenzin hissed. No response. "Bumi!" he repeated, a little louder.
Bumi groaned in his sleep and rolled onto his side, his back to his little brother. Tenzin frowned, his brow furrowed in irritation. He considered waking him but decided against it. Bumi was home visiting from his first year at the United Forces Academy and was resentful that he'd been stowed in the same room as his baby brother. Tenzin didn't want to pester him. Instead he left his bed and tiptoed down the hall.
It was even darker in the hallway but he knew the path well enough: Boys' room, Kya's room. He paused at Kya's door, wondering if he should go to her, but Kya had grown more private lately and didn't care for people coming into her room unannounced. He passed the bathroom and finally arrived at the door to his parents' room, already standing open a crack. With tentative hands, he pushed it open just far enough to silently slip inside.
His father was on his back in bed, one arm up and draped across the top of his head on the pillow, the other outstretched, his hand palm up on the empty side of the bed. Katara was travelling, visiting the Northern Water Tribe, and wouldn't return to Air Temple Island for at least a few more days. Tenzin scrambled onto the bed and knelt next to the sleeping figure, hesitating a little. At last he reached out and gently shook his shoulder.
"Daddy," he whispered. When this didn't work, Tenzin poked his bare side with his index finger. "Daddy," he said again, more insistently.
Aang drew in a deep breath through his nose and let it out with a soft grunt. He opened his eyes and turned his head to face his son.
"What's up, buddy?" he murmured.
"Something woke me up," Tenzin answered simply.
"Mm." Aang closed his eyes and brought in his outstretched arm to rub Tenzin's back reassuringly, "Bad dream?"
"No, but…" Tenzin paused, having only just realized what it was that was troubling him, "the wind stopped. It's so quiet."
Aang opened his eyes again and sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows. He glanced out the window and then reached out to affectionately rub Tenzin's stubbled head.
"There's a storm coming," he said.
Tenzin sat with his legs folded, his hands resting in his lap. He looked down at his father, waiting, patient. He was six years old and Aang was often caught off gaurd in moments like this, when it was undeniable that although Tenzin was young, he was an Air Nomad, through and through.
It was without any prompting that Tenzin began doing whatever his father was doing, becoming his tiny shadow. A year prior he'd asked to join morning meditation, so Aang began going to his room and waking him before the rest of the family was up so that they could walk to the shrine room together. They would sit in the back where it didn't matter when Tenzin dozed off. Within a week he wanted to start shaving his head so they would get up even earlier to trek to the bathroom. Tenzin would perch on the counter next to the sink so that Aang could cut his hair, then sit in silence and watch him do his own. He could remember the older boys doing this for him when he was Tenzin's age and it filled him with nostalgia to find the roles reversed, finally.
Aang had adjusted to the constant work involved in being a parent, at least as well as he could considering the circumstances. But when Tenzin was born, things changed. Kya and Bumi were interested in their heritage and absorbed Air Nomad culture as readily as Water Tribe. It was different with Tenzin, different to finally have a child who was an airbender. So the added pressure began, the extra layer on their relationship. Aang was not only his father but his sole teacher, as well. Already he had to humble himself, to explain very difficult concepts asked after so innocently and simply, like: "Where are the other airbenders?" and even more painfully, "Why?"
Aang smiled and it was a little sad. He sat up and gestured for Tenzin to come closer. The little boy scooted in, tugging the blanket up around himself.
"Remember when we talked about how air has water in it?" he asked, and Tenzin nodded. Aang nodded, too, "Before a storm, the clouds need to suck up all of that water to make rain, so the air gets pulled up into them," Aang drew his arms up and in, his palms pressed together in front of his face, "and then it spills back out over the top." He spread his fingers, palms upward, and lowered his hands. "So sometimes before a storm, things get very still like this. I'm proud of you for noticing it. Your reflexes are improving."
Tenzin was not completely sure what this meant but anything that made his father proud of his airbending skills delighted him. As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning. Tenzin stiffened and a moment later, a low, distant rumble of thunder followed. He looked up at his father who offered a sympathetic smile.
"Do you want to sleep here the rest of the night?" he asked. Tenzin nodded emphatically and Aang chuckled, "Okay." He stretched out on his side and Tenzin curled into him. Rain began to fall outside.
"I wish Mommy was here, too," he said, his small voice quiet.
Aang nodded, his beard scratching the top of Tenzin's head, "Me, too. It's not really the same without her here, huh?" He sighed heavily.
Katara had always sung lullabies to the children but Aang preferred to chant. He cleared his throat and in a low voice, began something simple, just a few syllables. After a few repetitions, Tenzin joined in.
In a few short hours their day would begin. They would be up before the sun, sitting in the back of the shrine room. Tenzin would work hard to stay awake for the first ten minutes but would spend the rest of the morning session nodding off. They would wake Bumi and Kya for breakfast and go to the market, to the beach, whatever Bumi wanted to do with his visit.
But for now, it was just the two of them. The last airbenders, chanting quietly in the darkness as the rain fell outside.