Greetings, dear old reader. Oh, how time flies. It feels like a lifetime since I last posted, and I admit, I had resolved to write fics for myself from now on, fics that only my eyes would grace, but...well...I fell into a writer's funk.
It got to the point where I was completely lacking inspiration, and I was left unsatisfied with every piece of prose I produced. Nothing was working, and I began to fret that perhaps I'd lost my author's touch, but then, recently, when I was in an Avatar mood, I reread a good portion of The Avatar Rebels, one of my most prized fanfics, and suddenly...I had inspiration. My muse overtook me, and so this was written. I'll admit that I'm still worried it may not be as good as some of my previous works, but I decided to post this, and if any of my old readers are still perusing this site and happen to stumble upon this, I hope it meets your every desire.
So, about the fic itself, it probably won't make much sense if you haven't read The Avatar Rebels. This is a small glimpse into the future of that universe, so that you can see how they all ended up, especially the Aang, whom you'll remember I put through the wringer.
Okay, that wraps up the Author's Note, so on to the story!
Disclaimer: Do I really still have to do these? Ugh,
fine. I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any characters taken from Legend of Korra.
"Are we there yet?"
"Oh, for the love of - does it look like we're there?"
"Well sorry. I was just asking a question. No need to be a jerk about it."
"But you've asked that same question, like, twenty times now!"
"Maybe I'm just excited. Unlike you, you stick in the mud."
"Stupid!"
"Know-it-all!"
"KYA! BUMI!"
Both children ceased their bickering immediately. They hesitantly turned their eyes to their very put-out and unamused mother, who was glaring heatedly at them.
"Could we please," she continued in a softer but no less irritated tone, "get through the rest of this trip without fighting? My mental stability can't take it."
Katara, the strung-out mother mentioned above, instantly realized what she had said, and she cast a concerned glance at the one other person on the bison, the one who had yet to speak.
Aang, in contrast to her own reaction, appeared oblivious to the insensitivity that could have been derived from the statement. He smiled fondly at his children.
"Kids," he said, using what Katara had dubbed his 'dad voice.' He always found it difficult to scold his children, but his wife had been harping on him lately for "going too easy on them." Not wanting to disappoint her, particularly when she was pregnant and hormonal, he'd been making an effort to do so.
"Your mother has put up with your bickering since we left home, which was very considerate of her," he flashed his most charming smile at the waterbender in question, who rolled her eyes and smiled at his sucking up, "and since she's put up with you two for this long, don't you think she's earned a break?"
"But Kya started it!"
"Did not. You're the one who wouldn't stop asking if we were there when we clearly weren't!"
Bumi, affronted, prepped a retort, but was cut short by his father.
"Sounds like you're both to blame," reasoned the airbender, "Bumi, why don't you try figuring things out for yourself before asking the rest of us?"
Kya smirked at her brother, but her small victory didn't last long.
"And Kya, why don't you try not being so harsh to your brother when all he did was ask a question...twenty times?"
Kya huffed and crossed her arms stubbornly as Bumi stuck his tongue out at her.
"And one more suggestion. Why don't the both of you apologize?" Aang concluded his chiding with a raised eyebrow at each of his children, making his intent clear.
Kya and Bumi groaned unwillingly, but - glaring all the while - they turned to face one another. They knew from personal experience that their father's definition of "suggestion" was far closer to their own definition of command.
"Sorry for being annoying, Kya," Bumi muttered moodily.
"Sorry for snapping, Bumi," Kya apathetically apologized.
Aang, sensing the lack of shame, very nearly pressed the matter until he was sure his children had learned their lesson, but was stopped by a shake of the head from Katara. Having known her since the tender age of twelve, he could read the look in her eyes well. Her silent message: I'll take it.
He nodded his acceptance, but the Avatar still wasn't done quite yet.
"Now," he tried his best to sound firm, "apologize to your mother. You know she needs her rest, and the two of you arguing isn't making it any easier."
At this, Kya and Bumi had the decency to look ashamed, and they voiced their apologies in sync.
"Sorry, Mom."
Katara nodded, shooting Aang a grateful look, which he returned with a lopsided grin, "It's okay, and thank you for saying you're sorry. Now, can we all try to get along for the rest of our journey?"
"Yes, ma'am," the kids confirmed sullenly, once more in unison.
"Good," Katara nodded, not struggling in the least to remain curt, unlike her pushover husband. Deciding her kids had learned their lesson, she turned her attention to Aang, who, having reached the same conclusion, had returned to gazing ahead, gently guiding Appa through the sky.
Affection overwhelmed her as she stared at her husband, who appeared to be completely at peace as he rode on. She thought back to her earlier statement, the one she'd feared would sting him, only for it to completely pass him by. He hadn't so much as blinked at her words; they'd held no hold over the man whatsoever. That was improvement, and it made Katara giddy with pride.
It had been years since Khon. Years since the Rebels. Years since Azula. Years since the Dai Li and the brainwashing.
Years since Feng...
Indeed, a lot of time had passed since what some considered Aang's most trying ordeal, but like an ocean storm, Team Avatar could still feel the ripples long afterward, present inside Aang and themselves to this day - especially Aang, who had been most affected by the experience. Even after all this time, they were gentle with their friend. Any possible trigger was disposed of the second its presence was detected. Some might call them overly cautious in their measures, but - but…
They couldn't forget. They simply couldn't. Every time the possibility of Aang reliving those days appeared, it forced the rest of Team Avatar to relive it all for themselves. The agony of nearly losing Aang, first to Khon and the Rebels, then to Azula, and then, at one point, to himself - it put them on high alert. Aang would never go down that road again; they wouldn't let him so much as glance in its direction.
Even after all had been said and done, the time following the Battle of Uchiwake, so dubbed by the public, had been far from easy. Sure, Aang had returned to them, but nothing anyone ever did would wipe away those months of unrelenting pain, and as such, he could not be expected to come out unscathed.
He had his scars - literally and metaphorically. Katara recalled one instance, about a year or so after Uchiwake, when one such scar had announced its existence.
They were in the heat of battle with a group of firebending radicals. The Rebels no longer posed the threat they had in the past, but occasionally a cell would crop up, and the Gaang would have to quell their violence before it spread.
This particular squad was protesting the establishment of Republic City, Aang's most prized project and an area of much malcontent. Some welcomed the idea with open arms; others, earthbender and firebender alike, rejected it like vomit.
This being as it was, Team Avatar were far from surprised when they'd received news of rebellion. In fact, they'd stationed themselves near the work zone in preparation for just such an occurrence.
They were spread out on the battlefield, a built-in trust that they could all take care of themselves having been established. Usually each of them managed this task quite well, and this time held no clues of being an exception to the norm. Katara was taking out several Rebels with the watery tentacles of her octopus stance, the waterbender having manufactured it from a lake in the vicinity. Zuko knocked one Rebel back with a well-timed fire-punch, a small ball of the element bursting forth from his fist. Toph had managed to encase several of the enemy in mounds of earth and was working on yet another, and Sokka was taking on a Rebel with his sword, having grown in his skill with the weapon since the war's end.
Aang, too, had made a contribution. These fighters were no real threat, and so he hadn't felt the need to call upon the Avatar State, instead taking them on with his own power. Having taken out three fighters already, he turned his attention to a fourth, whose eyes were already trained on him.
"Hello there, Avatar," came the snide voice of his opponent, "Still trying to make that 'peaceful world'? Newsflash - fighting for peace is still fighting."
Aang grimaced, "I may hate fighting, but there's such a thing as the greater good. I hope you can understand that one day."
"I'll never understand taking territory from its rightful owners," the man in front of him countered bitterly, eyes narrowed and fighting stance donned.
Aang sighed and braced himself. The man didn't disappoint, a red streak of flames making its way toward Aang within seconds. The airbender blocked the attack with a twirl of his staff. He then sent a ripple of earth at his opponent, who was knocked back, but the man was stubborn. He was on his feet again in a matter of moments, teeth clenched in frustration. With a cry of rage, he sent a stream of fire behind him. Aang stepped to the side at the last second, hurling a small rock at the man's back after he'd passed, once more knocking him down. Sounding as if he were growling, the man unsteadily rose to his feet.
This group really wasn't a threat - at least, that's what Team Avatar had thought. Their reasoning may have been sound, but nonetheless, it was far from true.
"So the airbender's got a few tricks up his sleeve," the man smirked, "I can see why Azula wanted you."
Aang, who had been about to follow Toph's lead and trap the man in earth, halted.
"W-What?"
The man laughed darkly, "I've broken out of prison more than a couple times, Avatar, and I've been circled around quite a few of them. One prison had a collection Dai Li agents. I got to know them pretty well, and - wouldn't you know it? Some of them used to work for Azula."
Aang had, at this point, blanched, completely frozen. If anyone had taken the opportunity to attack him then, he would've been a sitting turtleduck.
The man took in the boy's expression, devouring it hungrily. He was beginning to feel powerful again, and the feeling pleased him, "Turns out Khon wasn't the only one with a hand in the brainwashing business. Goody goody Avatar Aang went from being one of us to Azula's whipping boy."
Aang employed the philosophy of his people -shove those emotions down.
Taking a breath to steady himself, Aang kicked up another rock, punching it toward his enemy. This time, the man had sense to dodge.
They continued their battle for another minute, and Aang had begun to believe he'd be okay, when the pugnacious firebender performed his next trick.
Aang's fighting stance dissipated instantly, his world coming to a standstill. He wasn't focused on the man, his enemy as far from his thoughts as east from west.
Instead, at the forefront of his worries, was the fire-whip.
Insane laughter…words of torment…burning flesh...cries of agony...
The flaming whip hit him dead on. He fell down, cowering before the man, but - but it wasn't the man. Not anymore. No, it was Azula who stalked toward him, equipped with a whip, insults on the tip of her tongue, and a complete lack of morality.
He trembled, victim to his fate.
Katara broke away from the memory quickly, sighing inwardly. She'd come to Aang's rescue, having already taken out her own targets. Quickly incapacitating the man whom Aang couldn't bring himself to face, she'd rushed toward the young airbender. He'd been whimpering, and it had required a lot of coaxing for him to uncurl himself and sit up.
What had troubled Katara the most had been his eyes, wide and unseeing, focused on something far off. Aang had been somewhere else, and he'd remained in that realm for the duration of the day.
The poor thing had been unsteady around fire-whips for a long while after.
But now, Katara mused from her spot behind the airbender, he didn't so much as flinch at the sight of them. He treated the burning whips like any other bending technique, but he still had yet to use one himself. Zuko, out of respect for the monk, only used them when he was positive his friend was otherwise occupied.
"Katara?"
Aang's gentle voice pulled the waterbender from her thoughts.
"Yes, sweetie?"
His expression was one of perplexed intrigue.
"You've been staring at me. Not that mind, but...any particular reason?"
Her smile was soft, "No reason. I just love you, Aang."
His was equally soft, "I love you too, sweetie."
They held each other's eyes for a little longer, but eventually Aang had to focus on the path ahead, even if his mind was still with his beloved wife.
Katara looked behind her, making sure the kids were okay. Once assured, she returned her gaze to Aang's form.
The use of the couple's favored term of endearment brought a new memory on, and Katara let it sweep her away.
It was six months after Uchiwake when Aang had his first relapse.
No one was sure what exactly had triggered it. Nothing had seemed overtly troubling beforehand; no warning bells had gone off. Aang himself wouldn't be able to identify the cause looking back.
All anyone knew was that Aang had dropped his plate on the ground, having been on his way for seconds. They were currently staying at the Southern Water Tribe, Zuko managing to escape his responsibilities long enough to visit his friends for a nice dinner.
"Uh...Aang? You okay there?" Sokka inquired between a mouthful of food, furrowing his eyebrows at his friend, who was looking at them all in confusion. The boy opened his mouth, apparently intending to speak, but he shut it almost instantaneously. He looked nervous and awkward in his environment, and Katara noted how he carried himself the tiniest bit differently.
"I - I...uh…"
"What's wrong?" Zuko, too, was concerned.
Aang squirmed, "W-Where…?"
"Where what, Twinkletoes?"
"I-I don't...what's going on?"
"What do you mean, Aang?" Katara spoke up, desiring to unearth the root of his distress.
Aang blinked in her direction, tilting his head.
"...Namika?"
She waited to see if he was joking. Oh, how she waited, but as the seconds ticked by, Aang remained serious, and her heart dropped.
"Toph?" she breathed hoarsely.
The panicked earthbender was uncharacteristically quiet, but nevertheless, she answered her friend.
"He's telling the truth."
Katara focused on Aang at once, dimly registering Sokka swallowing his food with a loud gulp in the background.
"Aang...Aang, I'm not Namika," Katara spoke as softly as she could manage. The rest of Team Avatar, with the notable exception of the Avatar himself, heard the desolation in her voice.
"Yes, you are," Aang corrected her, "and - and he's Lee. And she's Lin, and that's Wang. I know you guys."
"No," Katara couldn't keep the trembling moan from blending with her words, "that isn't true. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry about what? I don't know what you're talking about, Namika."
Katara cursed the alias with all she had. She'd never wanted to hear the wretched name again, even if, ironically, she'd chosen it herself. She wasn't Namika, and she felt like screaming it in Aang's face to get the point across.
But she didn't.
Delicately, she informed the monk, "You aren't a Rebel, Aang."
"What?! That's ridiculous; of course I am!"
"You're wrong. I'm sorry. I know this must be confusing."
Aang was angry now, temper quick with his newly adorned personality, "Listen, I don't know what you're problem is, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking crazy and told me what's really going on here!"
Katara looked on sadly.
"Lee," Aang turned to the firebender, seeking clarity, "Will you please explain this to me? 'Cause Namika sure isn't giving any answers."
Zuko sighed wearily, "She's right, Aang."
"Not you too!" Aang shouted. He rounded on the others. "Lin! Wang! What about you two?!"
"Sorry, Aang, you're on your own," none of his usual mirth was present in Sokka's tone.
"Listen, I'm not Lin. I'm Toph," the earthbending prodigy told the monk directly, wanting to strangle her chosen pseudonym, to block her ears from the sound of it. She would stomp it out of existence if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Toph," Aang repeated, rigid posture slackening. He blinked and reiterated the single word, "Toph."
Katara beamed in relief, "Good - very good! She's Toph. He's Sokka, he's Zuko, and I'm Katara."
"Sokka...Zuko…" Aang echoed distantly, "...Katara…"
It was apparent to Team Avatar when it dawned on the airbender. Aang's eyes filled with realization, followed quickly by mortification and shame.
Katara bit back yet another sigh, recalling how humiliated Aang had been after that. Still, she pressed onward in the memory, knowing of its happy conclusion.
After the relapse, Aang's friends walked on eggshells around him, afraid of inciting another step backward. For his part, Aang showed no signs of falling back into either of his fake belief sets, with one exception.
He had trouble with names, and it worsened with his ever-growing frustration.
"Katara," he would say, only to pause and stumble over his following words, "wait - wait, sorry. I mean Namika - wait - ugh, it is Katara, isn't it?! Agh! Sorry, sorry!"
The rest of the Gaang didn't blame him, always quick to reassure the monk, but he didn't care. He should know this. Six months had passed, and even now he couldn't get their names sorted! These were the people who'd stuck by him when he didn't so much as look their way, the people who had loved him when he hadn't even been "him." The least he could do was bother to get their names right.
But he couldn't, and it was killing him.
And then, one fateful afternoon, Katara found a cure.
"Hey, Kata - er, Namika?"
"You had it right the first time," Katara told her boyfriend, heart clenching.
"Right, of course! K-Katara. I knew that!"
"But it's okay if you didn't."
"I did!" Aang snapped, "Okay?! I did! Your name is Namika, and I know that!"
They stared silently at each other, Katara gazing at her loved one sadly as Aang processed his own words.
Finally, he released a tired sigh, "I'm sorry, K-K-Katara. I shouldn't have snapped like that."
"It's okay, Aang. I understand," Truth be told, as much as she loved him, sometimes she slipped up. Sometimes she felt her irritation rise, and she suffered compassion fatigue. What gave Aang the right to act horribly and always be forgiven without having to make up for it at all? What made him the exception?
But one look into his lost eyes, one reminder of those nightmarish months, and her anger would always recede. He hadn't asked for any of this.
And so, it didn't take Katara long to forgive Aang at all, but that didn't make it easier for the boy to forgive himself.
"But it's not okay, and you shouldn't have to understand! Look at me; I'm a wreck! I snap at you. I whine. I don't even know your name half the time; I just got it wrong right after you correct me!"
"Aang…"
"I'm sorry you have to put up with me," Aang finished miserably. "I wouldn't blame you if you just gave up on me."
"Aang, sweetie, I love you too much to do that," Katara had been about to delve into a wide array of consolations, when an idea struck her.
"Call me sweetie," she blurted abruptly.
"Huh?" Aang certainly hadn't been expecting that.
"Do it."
"Um, okay...hello, sweetie," the addled airbender complied.
Katara grinned, waiting for it to click for her boyfriend. When it didn't, she bade him try again.
"Whatever you say, sweetie," he obeyed her, and then Aang suddenly caught her drift. His eyes lit up like stars in a previously dark and dreary sky.
"Sweetie," the jubilant airbender repeated, "oh, sweetie, you're a genius!"
He enveloped the waterbender in warm hug, which she joyfully returned.
Aang broke apart from her, and she filled her gaze with as much love as she could muster. As one might guess, she could muster plenty.
"Whenever you're confused," her soothing voice captured Aang's adoring attention effortlessly, "all you have to do is call me sweetie. I don't care if you've settled on Namika or Katara. As long as you know I'm your sweetie - as long as you know I love you."
Years later, and they'd used their fair share of nicknames for each other, but "sweetie," with its therapeutic effect and deeper meaning, remained the most prominent one, and Katara doubted that would ever change. She didn't mind in the slightest.
The bright light of the setting sun outlined Aang's figure, and Katara, who was apparently in the mood for reminiscing, remembered her husband's previous aversion to bright lights, the idiosyncrasy discovered one time when the Gaang had all gone out for dinner.
"Sokka, I swear if all this place serves is meat..."
"Relax, Arrow-boy, my sister had a long talk with me about 'being considerate,' so believe me when I say that I've taken all precautions. This fine establishment has meals perfectly suited to your condition."
"Condition?!"
Suki rolled her eyes, "Don't worry, Aang. If Sokka doesn't shape up, I'll be sure to let him have it later. Or...not…"
Sokka caught his wife's implications with widened eyes. Horrified, he rapidly amended his words.
"U-Um...I-I mean…I'm sure if this place doesn't have meat, which is perfectly acceptable not to eat, by the way - commendable, even - then I'd be exuberant at the prospect of finding an eatery that suits your every need, Aang. Buddy...pal…"
The innuendo had gone right over the innocent monk's head, but the rest of the Gaang snorted at Suki's threat and Sokka's subsequent reaction, so the fifteen year-old joined in. The merry group entered the restaurant, soon escorted to a private room reserved for them and them alone.
Aang had been listening to Toph's roughly affectionate tirade regarding her metalbending students when his attention was stolen. Above him, hanging from the ceiling, was a light fixture. It was a sphere encompassing a bright light, and while Aang knew how common these were, something about the way it was swaying to and fro...or perhaps the brightness of the light itself…
His eyes followed it unblinkingly. Back and forth...bath and forth...a voice, an echo from a past life, snaked its way into his mind.
"Okay, Aang, just relax...focus on my voice…"
Aang did exactly that, eyes still tracking the glowing orb's movements. Strangely enough, the voice didn't have anything else to say, but the lack of speech did nothing to break Aang's concentration. Focus on the light...close your eyes…
"Yo, Twinkletoes, I'm talking here!"
Toph frowned when her words had no effect.
"Uh...Aang, aren't you gonna say something?"
Aang didn't respond, trance unbroken.
Toph was quickly converting from baffled to annoyed, "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
Yet again there was no reply, and Toph turned to Katara for answers, "What's up with your boyfriend, Sugar Queen?"
Katara shrugged, looking at Aang with concern.
"Aang, sweetie? Look at me."
Her command was tender, but Aang found himself clinging to it. He rotated his head slowly and met Katara's eyes with his own.
Katara gasped, sucking in a startled breath.
"What? What is it?! Tell me!" Toph demanded. Zuko, Suki, and Sokka were also curious, but they collectively paled in understanding as they finally got a good view of their airbending friend.
Katara, horrified, couldn't break away from Aang's stare. His storm cloud-gray eyes were far from an actual storm; instead, they were spheres of dull grayness. The teen was typically one to express with his whole countenance, but now...there was nothing. His gaze was steady, true, but it lacked any humanity, any sense that it harbored a soul.
"Aang - Aang, talk to me," Katara held her breath, awaiting a reply.
"Okay."
This time, even Toph was in shock, able to hear for herself the problem at hand. Aang's voice was hollow and submitted. It held no indication of the airbender feeling anything. The boy was speaking, but it didn't feel like Aang was speaking. His voice lacked any substance.
"It's the light," Sokka realized suddenly, pointing to the light fixture still swinging above. "It's flashing him back to when - t-to when…"
He couldn't finish, not that the rest of Aang's friends couldn't surmise the rest.
Katara bit her lip to prevent another accidental imperative. It wouldn't help Aang, and she hated the thought of having that kind of power over his mind. The idea reminded her sickeningly of bloodbending; it was not okay to pry into someone like that. She refused to be the puppetmaster.
Rather, she carefully placed a hand on either of Aang's cheeks, leveling him with her own steadily piercing eyes. It was impossible to tell how long they were like that, Katara never once averting her gaze. She had to draw out his emotions, draw out what made Aang who he was. If she could just pierce through that fog…
"Uh…" After immeasurable minutes, Aang vocalized the inner workings of his mind with the only sound that could properly represent them.
Katara pulled him into a hug. Pupils shrinking from their formerly wide status, he slowly returned the gesture.
And so they'd been careful with making sure that any bright lights were kept from swinging around Aang. As time continued its trek onward, he was less affected by the glowing reminders of his past, but even so, there were times when he would look at them and go numb. Now, though, he was able to snap out of it himself.
Aang yawned contentedly, and the nostalgic Katara found yet another source of pride.
Her husband had been subject to extreme paranoia in the aftermath of his trauma. Some of this had been cured by his forgiving Feng and more by the restoration of his memories, but, sporadically, his trust would vanish, and it would take strong persuasion to pull him from the darker depths of his mind.
One manifestation was his unwillingness to sleep. There was one time, Katara remembered, a month after their visit to the Contaminated, when she'd been on her way back to her temporary room at Zuko's palace after using the restroom…
Katara, unable to help herself, decided to walk past Aang's room. He was her world lately; he always had been, really, but now more so than ever was it prevalent. She adapted her actions to Aang's needs like a bender working with the ebb and flow of water. If he needed a drink, she was at his side with one in the blink of an eye. If he needed food, the smell of fine cooking was already permeating the air. If he needed a hug, her arms were around him.
And, if there was one thing Katara knew Aang struggled with, it was sleeping. Not only was he subject to night terrors, but his symptoms had a tendency to worsen when the sun was down.
So she detoured from the path leading to her own bedroom, walking down the corridor that contained Aang's. Soon, she was standing outside the boy's door.
She knocked softly and awaiting an answer.
"Who's there?"
The words were packed with trepidation, and the waterbender spoke as non threateningly as possible, "It's Katara, Aang. I wanted to check up on you."
There was silence on the other end of the door, but unexpectedly, it began to gradually creak open. The timid face of a thirteen year-old monk peered guardedly at her from the safety of his room, cautiously positioning himself behind the door.
He took in her appearance, nodded in affirmation, and opened the door wider.
"Come in."
Katara did as instructed, entering the room and watching as Aang fell back on his bed.
"Having trouble sleeping?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
Aang sighed, "I always do. But what are you doing up so late?"
"I had to use the restroom," Katara shrugged dismissively, "and I figured I'd check on you while I was awake."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to."
He offered her a small smile, "Thanks."
He curled in on himself and faced the opposing wall, obscuring her view of his face, but Katara didn't have to see it to know his expression.
"You wanna talk about it?" she prodded, reaching a hand out and placing it on his shoulder.
"Not really," he deflected. The nomad was true to his people, avoiding the problem like that, but Katara was persistent.
"You really should, Aang."
"Stop prying!"
Ah, and there was his Rebel side, hating it when people were overly invested in his business.
"I think you'd feel better, but if you don't feel ready, I won't push," Katara acquiesced.
"But," she added, "let me stay with you until you fall asleep."
Aang nodded his acceptance, and she tenderly rubbed his shoulder, keeping silent vigil over the boy, and counting her blessings that she had a boy to keep vigil over in the first place. Her boy.
She would've gladly stayed like that all night, but, a half an hour later, Aang broke the quiet that had formed.
"I get scared," he confessed precipitously. Katara didn't retract her hand's loving touch as he elaborated. "I know it's unreasonable, but I can't help myself. Sometimes it's like I'm hyper-aware of my surroundings. I can sense every little thing around me, and I feel like I have to keep track of all those things, make sure they're in their proper place. Make sure they aren't...coming after me…"
He continued, "And at night when everything's quiet, it feels...too quiet. And if I'm ever feeling calm, I start to feel worry squirming around in the pit of my stomach, and the walls close in, and no matter how hard I breathe, it isn't enough air. It's like I'm suffocating, and I just know that the peace can't last, and I'm willing whatever danger there is to happen already so I don't have to sit there and stew over it. It's like...nothing can ever be this peaceful. Something has to happen."
Katara's heart broke at his words, "Aang…"
At last, he faced her, leveling her with a pained stare, "Katara...I'm afraid I can't be happy again. Not anymore."
Katara's very soul shunned the notion. The idea of Aang unable to achieve happiness went against her core, her being. Aang was happiness - a prominent source of her own, at least. He was happiness and hope and fun and life and love. He was everything good, and he should be able to taste the fruit of his labors for the world. Katara would see to it that he did.
Leaning in, she graced him with a kiss. After a second's surprise, he responded. It didn't last long, but the feeling of warmth and tingling of lips stayed with them for a long while after.
"What was that for?" Aang queried with raised eyebrows.
"Are you happy now?" Katara asked.
"Uh - y-yeah. How could I not be?"
"Well there you have it," Katara explained blithely, "even when you're at your lowest, the people you love can pull you back up again. All you have to do is let us."
Aang gaped at her, corners of his lips curved upward, his surprise morphing into delight.
Katara brought her case to a close, her hand currently caressing Aang's head, "Everything's okay, sweetie. You may not feel that way now, but someday you will, and until then, count on us to guide you."
And, thought Katara, tracing Aang's figure with her eyes, that day had finally arrived. Aang was at peace. He'd overcome the unpleasant memories, the paranoia, the irrational phobias; Aang was his own man, not conquered by his demons.
Blissfully, Katara turned to her children, knowing Aang would be fine. Everything was okay, and at long last, both Katara and Aang believed it.