A/N: OKAY, first thing first. I know a lot of you are waiting on an update for Forget-Me-Not, and I have not forgotten it! (Ironic, I know). I've recently moved and started up university again and it's been a very, very busy few months. On top of laptop issues and general tiredness, I haven't had a lot of time for writing. However, I can definitely promise that an update is coming! Very, very soon! So keep your eyes peeled.

Secondly, about this drabble - I'm still super upset at how episode three ended and the general direction that lok of deciding to go. I will forgive Bryke a lot of things, but don't you dare throw shade on my Cloudbabies. With all that in mind, enjoy! ~TA


Bumi is the first.

After months of careful planning, after weeks of late-night discussions over names and futures and hopes, after thirteen grueling hours in which Katara swears she will never let Aang touch her again, Bumi is the first child, born on a hot summer's day, sliding from his mother into his father's eager hands.

They spend three years, three long, wonderful years as a family, and there if Aang should feel any sadness that his son shows no signs of bending, it disappears at the first hint of Bumi's wide, crooked smile.

The two of them, Aang and Bumi, find themselves occupied with playing jokes on Katara, on crashing through the jungles with Sokka, with trips through the Earth Kingdom with Aunt Toph. His favourite trips are the ones to the Fire Nation, where Zuko loses his stern gaze and lets Bumi run about the throne room with a paper sword, shouting orders at soldiers who try and hide their smiles.

Kya is the next baby, born at the water's edge in the calm after a fierce snowstorm. Her hair is the same chocolate brown as Katara's, and her eyes are the same clear, sweet blue. When she feeds from her mother, Katara feels a pang, instant and strong, and knows that her daughter is the first Waterbender born to the Southern Tribe since Katara herself.

If Bumi's trips with his father are loud and full of laughter, Kya's are filled with quiet exploration through the mystical temples, breathless jaunts through the streams and rivers that crisscross the world, long and deep and thoughtful questions that never receive a perfect answer, but a wonderful debate. Kya shows promise as a Bender early on, and any grief Aang has for being the only Airbender alive is lost when he watches his wife tenderly teach their daughter the intricate dance of a thousand years of history. His two children run him ragged, but it never bothered Aang when he showed up to council meetings with his best robes covered in paint, or when he spent his night pretending to be a man with a mustache, following Kya around as she went on a date with another questionable fellow. Kya and Bumi are his children, and he loves them.

Tenzin is the last, and his pale skin, his clear grey eyes, make Aang wonder.

To know that he is not the last Airbender in the world lifts a mountain from Aang's shoulders, and there are things that he could teach Tenzin that Kya or Bumi would never need to know. But there are thoughts he has shared with Kya that he never shared with his sons, there are pranks he's pulled with Bumi that Kya and Tenzin will never share. His essence is divided between the ones who share his blood, and the ones he call his family. And on the day Avatar Aang takes his last breath, despite Tenzin being the only Airbender left in the room, he realizes that he isn't alone, has never been alone. His family stretches from the frozen ice of the Southern Water Tribe, to the sleek, rocky desert of the Earth Kingdom, to the lush, rich paradise of the Fire Nation. His family contains his friends who have journeyed with him and his children who have learned from him.

There is no such thing as a perfect father, but Avatar Aang did his best to come awfully close.