Inspired by: Avatar

Specifically: The look Aang has when leaving the Southern Air Temple I always thought they would come back to the Southern Air Temple in the series, but they didn't. My version of events then, I guess...

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar

Dedicated to: Mr. Fisher and the Fisher family, and to Grandpa Larry.

Unfinished Business

"Katara?"

The waterbender heard a rather weak voice from behind her, and she swiftly turned her head around. The person who had spoken emerged from behind the doorposts. It was Aang. Instantly her expression changed to worry as she searched his eyes for explanation, though they gave none away.

"Can you come with me? I have some..." His voice was beginning to crack, though no tears were shed from his grey eyes, "some unfinished business to do." he finished, looking pointedly away. Katara's eyebrows rose in curiosity, but she decided that now wasn't the time to ask questions.

Walking up to him, she turned his chin towards her, looked him in the eye, and told him, "Okay."

Aang turned and left the room, and Katara willingly followed him, wondering what he could possibly want her help for. Worry was seeping in to her, dreading what might've happened.

As they walked through the long hallways of the deserted Air Temple, her eyes wandered to all of the beautiful mosaics that had survived the Fire Nation raids. Their age showed, dusky and dirty with several tiles missing, but still filled her with wonder at their majestic art. It made her wonder what Aang's life was like; home at the Southern Air Temple, before the war had begun. Though it had ended three years ago, the scars of the one hundred years past still showed. Still hurt.

Katara looked up at Aang again, who continued to walk in front of her without giving her so much as a glance back, seemingly determined not to look at her. She was beginning to feel uneasy, hands cringing in anxiety at what it was that made him so different. Never had she seen him act like this. This wasn't the Aang she knew, who was so full of joy and happiness and love. No, this wasn't the Aang when the first invasion failed, or even when they had lost Appa. This was something much deeper, something...darker.

They came out into the bright afternoon sun, leaving the relatively gloomy and damp Temple behind. Autumn was beginning to show itself: the leaves on the trees surrounding the temple turned extraordinary shades of orange, yellow, and brown. Briefly she appreciated how their colors matched Aang's clothing perfectly; it was no wonder the airbenders had chosen that clothing to fit their Nation.

And as they walked through the lower courtyard of the Temple, Katara slowly began to realize where he was taking her. They passed numerous wreckage and destroyed buildings, rubble was scattered across the entire balcony on the cliff-side. It was so different from inside the temple, which wasn't destroyed like this place had been. But suddenly she realized this was no work of a firebender.

This was the work of the Avatar State, when Aang had found Monk Gyatso's skeleton.

Gyatso.

Oh, no... Katara thought to herself. What had happened to the skeleton of Aang's former mentor and friend? Is that why he's bringing me here? She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice Aang had stopped, and she was two inches from knocking him over. Pausing in mid-step, she put her foot down behind her and backed up a few paces to give him space.

Aang kneeled down with his back to Katara, still refusing to look at her. He put his hand to the ground, and his tattoos began to glow; soft sky-blue turning silver-white in the radiant light. Frightened, she instinctively stepped back, recalling what had happened the last time they were here. But no orb of air encircled him, no powerful wind pushed her back.

Instead, a beam of hot white light shot from his palm and into the ground, creating a pathway from his fingertips. The beam of light spread, zig-zagged, crossed and intertwined around the entire area, encircling Aang and herself. She found herself gaping down at the earth in amazement.

Slowly, a soft trickle of wind picked up around her, and she realized Aang was the cause of it. He pulled himself up, and with clenched fists he grasped an invisible rope, clinging to it as he summoned his native element. He seemed to be sucking the air from all around them, seeking air like a helpless child. Katara's clothes now drifting with the wind, she felt a steady breeze appear all around her, whipping towards the Avatar. Fearing for Aang's sake, she nearly cried out to him, but she bit her lip at the last moment. Aang didn't seem to be angry or upset, but quite the contrary—calm. The air moving past her felt almost like a heart beat; the lines etched all around her was the blood, pulsing with life.

Small rubble and trinkets began to move towards the two, picked up by the wind. Katara briefly glimpsed a white object hurtling towards her, and she yelped in surprise, ducking into safety. She glanced over at Aang, and stopped as she realized what those white objects were.

They were bones.

Bones gathered and clung to Aang's feet, causing Katara to gape in horror. She was scared, scared for him; she didn't want anything bad to happen. She wanted to run up to him and smack away those horrible bones from around him, to hug and comfort him and peel away the hurt and pain. Katara was sure those bones belonged to the airbenders. Yet when she peered closer at him, not daring to take a step forward, she noticed there was only one skull among the scattered bones. And now it wasn't just bones. Ripped and torn pieces of cloth—orange, red, and yellow—now were piled up against his feet, along with a small round wooden circle that carried the Air Nation symbol.

This is all that's left of him... Katara thought, her mind silent with the unbearable truth. All that he has of Gyatso...is in that small pile of rubbish. Her chest ached, heart seeming to burst with pain. Because she knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.

But Aang's loss was seemed greater. Katara at least had her mother's necklace: whole and complete and a loving reminder of her. Aang only had bits and pieces. Bits and pieces...bits and pieces... the thoughts swirled around her brain, causing her to shake her head as she closed her eyes.

Bitterly, Katara noticed the wind had died, and opening her eyes again she raised her head to Aang. He now crouched on his hands and knees, huddled on the ground in grief. Instantly she found herself rushing to his side, coming to a halt as she knelt at his side. Tentatively, her arms reached out towards him, gently wrapping themselves around his chest. She pulled him close, her cheek resting against his tear-ridden face, closing her eyes. She held him there, pulling his closer and closer to her heart, as if hearing it would provide comfort. Her right hand moved across his chest, pausing to where his heart should be. She was relieved to find it still beating.

A shudder trembled throughout the airbender's entire body, and she turned her head to face him. He was still looking down at the ground, in an expression so miserable, it made her insides curl. Hands shaking, he reached out, picking up the slab of wood that had once been Gyatso's. His breathing came out in ragged gasps; though he tried to calm them, his lungs did not cease to swallow gulps of air. Gently, he allowed his palm to touch the smooth texture, tracing over the air symbol with the tip of his fingers. Clenching the ornament tightly in his hand, he stood up.

I want to bury him," he began, turning down to face the pendant held tightly in his fist. "...and I want to do it properly."

There was a set face of determination in his face, and Katara brought herself to her feet. She nodded, but he gave no sign of recognition, and began to walk away. She made to follow him, but he turned and stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Katara, I need you to stay here..." He said, eyes directed down at the pile of bones.

"Aang, no, please—" Katara began, not wanting to stay near the bones of Aang's one hundred-year-old friend. While Gyatso was dead, there was something that seemed to be alive encircling those bones. She could feel it.

"Katara..." Aang cut her off, finally turning to look at her. There was desperation in his eyes, pleading with her. Stunned, Katara found she didn't need him to say any more. She dipped her head in a nod. His lips curved upwards slightly, though there was no warmth in his smile.

Turning, he walked away, leaving Katara to stand guard over Monk Gyatso's bones. Yet she found herself unable to look at them. There was too much grief, and she unconsciously closed her eyes as she tried to blot out the feelings sweeping over her. She was meant to be the strong one, to be there for the young Avatar. Yet she felt weak in the knees, not bearing the sight of those bones. As a healer, the waterbender felt some disturbance, a spirit around the area, something she feared. Because Katara was sure she knew who's body that spirit belonged to.

After minutes that seemed like hours, Aang returned. He carried a bundle of soft orange cloth and a basket. There was no expression on his face, which worried Katara. Carefully he knelt down, and placing the bones inside the cloth, he gently wrapped them and picked it up again. Gesturing to her, he began walking on a path she had never noticed before.

"Come on," he said, looking at her, "It's a long walk." Gingerly, she picked up the basket he had laid down and obediently followed the now silent monk.

Katara immediately noticed the walkway gradually began to descend, steeping in every step they took, road seeming to trail down the mountain. She was sure she would've asked questions about where they were going, had the circumstances been anything else than what they were. Therefore, she thought it best to hold her tongue. As for the basket... well, she wasn't sure she even wanted to know what was inside, almost scared to peek.

So instead Katara took time to admire the mountain itself, how its rather beautiful surface was aligned with plants that unfolded the bright shades of autumn. The late afternoon light escaped her as they dipped underneath the fog. Below the line of clouds, the surface seemed so different from the peak where the temple was built. Down here, she could smell the salty sea, and pondered how far away they were from the shore. As she could hear the distant crashing of waves, she decided it couldn't be too far.

After a while, Katara noticed her companion wasn't entirely silent. The young monk seemed to be whispering, murmuring to himself. Her first urge was to ask what he was doing, but decided against it, biting her tongue at the last minute. Rather, she merely listened to him, the exact words escaping her ears. However, she was able to discern a quiet chant coming forth from his lips, ever so soft and calm. She appreciated and admired how peaceful the Avatar seemed, since she was sure had held the remains of her mother in her arms, she would have been mortified. Yet Aang seemed fine. Despite that, she felt slightly disconcerted with his passive mood over something she felt was so intense. Shaking her head slightly, she removed the thoughts from her head. Delicately letting her fingers run along the smooth surface of the cliff as she walked, she tried to distract herself, although the worry refused to disappear. She cared too much.

As the day approached dusk, they moved closer and closer to what Katara was sure was the foot of the mountain. Suddenly, she noticed Aang was no longer in front of her, and panic gripped her. Making an abrupt dash around the bend, she saw him standing at the entrance to a cave, and she breathed a sight of relief. Coming up alongside him, she peered into the depths of cavernous hole. Afraid that he would ask her to go inside of it, she turned her head away from the looming darkness to focus on Aang, seeking an answer from his etched features.

Reading her thoughts, the monk answered her unspoken question by creating fire from the palm of his hand. Careful to not let the flickering flames lick the orange cloth, he stepped inside and turned his head, willing her to carry on with him.

Cautiously, Katara took a step forward next to him, and he smiled encouragingly at her. Then he turned his head back to the tunnel in font of them, and his expression dropped down to the stiff line again, the moment gone.

The monk took a few more steps, the light of the flames creating a soft, dim glow against the dark. He turned once again, waiting for her to come level with him, and she complied, faith in him shining. Yet this time, no smile was given, leaving a slight disappointment in her.

"Usually..." the airbender began, startling Katara: she hadn't heard him clearly speak—much less to her—for a long while. He continued, "Each of us, including the younger monks, would bring a candle. But since we can't—" He stopped, and made his way ahead of her, he peered into the darkness. Placing the orange bundle on the ground, he took what she recognized to be a firebending stance, and stared determinedly down the hollow chasm. In one moment, he dropped his small light, surrounding them in near total darkness as her muscles tensed in fright, clutching the basket tightly in her hands.

A small light flickered from the point where she last saw the monk in front of her, and she glanced to where the light source came from. Unexpectedly, a brilliant burst of thin flames shot from the fingers of the Avatar, firing their way down the incredibly long tunnel. Just as suddenly as it began, the jet-like trail of fire disappeared, but in place of it was a new light that still shown.

Katara gasped in amazement as her eyes trailed down the two long rows of candles on either side of her, reaching further down then she could have ever imagined. Each one of them humbly glimmered, illuminating everything around her. Noticing the holes carved within the sides of the rocky hallway, she took several steps forward, unaware of even moving. She tried to glimpse the farthest candle down the tunnel, passing up her friend. Except she soon found her effort to be in vain; she couldn't possibly see all the way down, the row of candles seemed to simply go on forever.

Yet despite her fascination, Katara got the prickling sensation of being watched. Feeling his gaze upon her, she slowly turned her head to Aang. He was smiling—a real, genuine Aang-smile—lost in the days gone by. However, she couldn't help but feel that a very small part of that smile was directed at her, as if seeing her astonishment held something to be remembered, a memory worth saving.

Picking up the bundle again, Aang walked up to her, the smile slowly fading. Katara wanted it to stay in place, but it had vanished the moment he stopped next to her. Glancing over to her on his right, he walked forward, and she understood she was to follow him again.

They briefly walked down the long tunnel, once again not talking. When they stopped less than a minute after they had begun, Katara began to realize that the holes etched within the walls around her carried bundles within them, around the length of a human. Eyes wide, she understood what was going on: they were inside the catacombs of the Southern Air Temple, and each of those small crevices contained the bones of airbending monks long deceased.

Unconsciously she inched away from the walls, accidentally nudging Aang's arm. She whipped her head towards him, only to find that he was staring at the wall, and she tossed a puzzled look at him. Quickly he earthbended the rocks away, creating a small walkway one person wide. He stepped inside, lighting up the walkway with his firebending, and she followed. Turning away from the inner core of the mountain, he earthbended another small walkway, and they continued.

When Aang came to another stop, he bended away the stone again, yet this time he formed a small room. After forming a table of earth in the center of the room, the monk gently lay down the bundle of cloth on top, still managing to retain the flame. Walking along the sides of the room, he created small ledges from the earth, sticking out slightly from the wall. He motioned for her to come forward, and she did, still holding the basket.

Slowly Katara released her grip on the basket, and handed it to him. He opened it, and taking out candles, began lighting them and placing them upon the ledges. Soon the room was gently lit with the flickering flames. Taking the basket again, he uncovered food offerings and gently placed them around the table.

Walking over to a side of the wall, Aang pressed his hand against the hard stone. Earthbending a small portion of the wall away, he stepped away to reveal the starlit night sky, shining down upon the bones of Monk Gyatso. Aang walked around to the head of his mentor's body, placing a hand on the table. Hesitantly, Katara stepped forward, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. He exhaled slowly, the candles' flames wincing at his breath.

"Gyatso..." Aang whispered, breath nearly evading him. "Mentor and beloved friend..." Katara looked down at where his fingers were, where his words were rapidly being etched into the earth. Looking up at him again, she saw the struggle and pain in his eyes. "Rest in peace." he finished, and letting his hand drop, he stood back from his work.

Feeling that this was the right moment to intervene, Katara pulled him into an embrace, holding him tightly against her. His arms wrapped their way around her, welcoming her warmth and love as he returned it with a fierce hug. Teardrops gently fell onto her clothes, and dimly Katara realized that she couldn't tell if they were Aang's or her own.

And they remained there for a long time.

***

"Behold, I make all things new."

~Rev. 21:5

Comments/Reviews are definitely appreciated.

I felt like that quote needed to be there. Feel free to ignore it if you wish, but it always seems to bring me a small bit of peace.

Also, concerning the burial, I did look up certain rituals for Buddhist monks, though I thought it would be reasonable to have an "Air Nomad Catacombs". So it's a combination of rituals.

As for the Avatar State pulling-stuff-towards-Aang-thing, I reckon he has an immensely strong bond with Gyatso, considering he and one of his past lives were friends with him. He has learned to take away bending, so why not this?