Tenzin's favorite spot on the island to meditate had a clear view of the statue of Avatar Aang that towered over the bay. This evening, he could not lose himself in his mind. Something kept driving his eyes open and toward the likeness of his father. Now more than ever Tenzin wished that he was still alive, that he would be there with some words of advice, some gentle, clear-headed guidance.

On the other hand, it was for these same reasons that Tenzin was glad his father was not around to know him at this moment. He knew he would be unable to keep secrets from him, and he also knew that if he had told Avatar Aang what he was holding inside of him, his father would have been horribly disappointed in him.

Tenzin ripped his eyes away from the statue, focusing instead on the dark water. He felt lower than he ever had. He did not feel worthy to be his father's son, to be the only left representation of his people. Avatar Aang was a good man. An honest man, a faithful man. He had met the love of his life at the age of twelve and had stayed mad for her all of his days. This was the picture of love Tenzin had always known growing up. His mother and his father had been made for each other- soulmates. His father had been a model spouse- always supportive, never straying.

Tenzin did not feel like a good man.

Even as he reproached himself for all of his faults, Tenzin could not keep his mind from conjuring up the image of Pema's smile, the sound of her laugh. The feel of her soft waist under his large hands and the way her calm presence seemed to clear his mind, help him think better. The way she was able to distract him from his duties with a silly face or a subtle joke and then push him right back on task.

The way she made love- present, steady pace, staring into his eyes and saying things that he had never heard in his entire life. It wasn't even as if she was smitten or adoring- it was more like she was right there with him, on the same exact level, and the feeling of this knocked Tenzin off of his feet. She was so close and completely unafraid of being so. She wanted to be open; she wanted to let him in.

Tenzin did not feel like a good man.

He let himself fall out of meditative stance and instead slump back onto the ground. "Father," he said aloud into the darkening sky. "What do I do?"

His father had seen Lin as the next closest thing to a daughter. Tenzin had no doubt that he had deeply wished to call her as such one day, but that had never happened. For them, marriage had never materialized. Engagements had been bandied about once or twice, but it was never the most desired thing in either of their minds. They were busy, they had lives and duties and neither of them had ever been spectacularly fond of the idea of matrimony. Not for years, at least. Not since they were far too young.

Tenzin would have thought it necessary to reach far back to bring forward these memories, but it never was. These moments always floated on the very surface of his mind- Lin Beifong falling asleep in his bed the night her mother died. Kissing for the first time on Ember Island, his newly tattooed arms and legs sensitive and bandaged. Her complete lack of shyness as she disrobed for him for the first time. They way she got angry when he said, "I love you," and the way the same words burned in her eyes and through her skin, unsaid.

Even then, it had been tough, but it had not been impossible. When they were teenagers and even young adults, every good moment had far outweighed the bad, the few times when he could just look into her green eyes and kiss her and tell her that she meant everything without having her cringe in response. The times they fought together and ran together and crashed down next to each other at night and pulled each other's clothes off without saying a word. When he watched her graduate from the police academy and his heart had felt so full of pride and awe that he thought it might burst.

Loving Lin was always a brisk sprint, never a steady jog. Sometimes he felt like whenever he started to catch up with her, she would deliberately lose him.

To Tenzin, his parent's love had always been simple, sweet, a constant. It just was. "You expect this to be too easy," Lin often said. "You don't work hard enough at it." They both worked hard at everything, though, every day, in their careers and respective responsibilities to the city. Why couldn't this one thing be easy for them? She would call him naïve, and he would call her cold. It was one of the meanest things he could say to her, knowing that she had opened up more to him than anyone else in the world. That was not very much, though, and besides- he had wanted to be cruel.

Lin took in her pain and processed it and let it come out again the form of insults, hurtful words. Tenzin wasn't a calm enough man to take this, he was a hothead deep down, he knew, and he reacted instantly instead of taking the time to question why. The earthbender and the airbender spit fire at each other constantly.

It wasn't that they hadn't tried. He and Lin both had tried too hard to make it work when it just wouldn't anymore, and that is why he still found himself with her when he had fallen in love with someone else.

Through the now completely-night sky, Tenzin saw a glow approaching him. Still sprawled on the ground, Tenzin pulled himself up into a more dignified sitting position before the shape holding a lantern revealed itself as Pema. Wordlessly she joined him, sitting next to him and placing the lantern at their feet.

"The bay's really beautiful under a crescent moon, isn't it?"

She didn't seem all very interested in the moon, and neither was Tenzin. He nodded, though, and they sat next to each other, only their shoulders slightly touching. It was enough. If it hadn't been for the tight feeling of self-loathing coiled in his chest, Tenzin knew that he would have been quite happy. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying just the presence of the other so much that they were unwilling to start any conversation.

"I didn't expect it to happen like this," Pema said finally. She wasn't looking at him, instead staring down, picking grass and tearing at it with her fingers. "I was never out to hurt Lin Beifong. When I told you about my feelings, it was more to get it off of my chest than anything. I never really imagined- well, of course I'd daydreamed, but I didn't really think-" She dropped the ripped up blades of grass, and they were blown away by a nighttime breeze before they touched the ground. "I didn't aspire to be any sort of, of man-stealer or anything."

"Pema, I can't be stolen," Tenzin said, putting his hands on hers. "I hold the responsibility for my actions. The wrongdoing here is mine. I am the one who should face judgment for it, not you." He pushed aside the brown hair that had fallen over her face. "I have to be with you, Pema. I love you. I just wish that I had realized everything earlier. I wish that we could have met in an easier way- that I didn't have to drag you into a scandal just to be with me." His hand fell from her face into her own palm. He laced his fingers with hers. "I wish that I didn't have to hurt one of my oldest friends in the process."

"There is no easy way," Pema said. "There's no path where everyone's feelings are sacrificed. If it would be better for you if I just left- you and her have such a history, I don't want to force-"

"Did you not hear me just say that I have to be with you? Please, don't go. I wouldn't be able to take it. I would follow you." He would. Tenzin knew that he would go anywhere for her. It would have scared him if Pema had been a less sensible woman, for he knew that she could probably ask anything of him and he would do it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You promise? There is no way that you're going to change your mind? I would understand if you did." Her voice sounded so troubled, so shaky and conflicted. It occurred to Tenzin that she had come out here prepared for this- prepared for everything to end. And yet she had done it anyway. She was stronger than he was was.

"I'm not," Tenzin said. "I love you. I will- I'll tell Lin tonight. I promise." He put his face into her hair, left light kisses, breathed in the scent of it. Running away with her sounded so good in that very moment; he was almost tempted. If he was a different man, he might have. "Won't you believe me?"

"I will," Pema said. She slipped her fingers out of his own and turned her head away. "I wanted to be sure that you were one hundred percent into this for the right reasons before I told you. I didn't want you to make any decisions based off obligations, or guilt, or anything other than how you really felt."

"Told me what?" Tenzin felt his heart speed up and his breathing shallow out.

Pema turned back to face him. She clenched her fists in front of her, as if to steel herself for what she was about to say. "I'm pregnant," she said, letting the words fall out of her in a rush. Then Pema's eyes squeezed shut.

Tenzin hadn't thought that there was any way that this situation could have been messier- he had been fooling himself, apparently. Yet he couldn't ignore the way his heart surged at this news, the idea of Pema carrying his child doing some strange and wonderful to him. He guessed that he had wanted children before in an abstract way, and of course, there had always been the strong pressure and knowledge that he needed to produce more airbenders- but this was nothing like that. In the moment she spoke those words, he suddenly saw himself building a family with Pema. With her, things had never cared to want suddenly felt urgent.

He put an arm around her, pulled her close until she opened her eyes and looked up at him. He smiled, and she smiled back.

"Pema," he said, when he could finally bring out words. "That's wonderful. I mean, if you're happy about it. Because, a baby, with you- I'm happy. If you are."

She laughed. It was soft and easy. "I feel so happy," Pema said, looping her arm around his. Her smile faltered, and she leaned her head against Tenzin's shoulder. "But I also feel so guilty."

"I wish the circumstances were different, too."

He wanted to stay there with her. He wanted to lay back in the grass and run his hand over her soon-to-expand stomach, talk about names and future plans and who they were going to grow to be together. Not yet, though. He couldn't start this yet; it wouldn't be fair. Tenzin again looked toward the statue in the bay. He may not have felt like a good man, but he wanted to at least start on the path to becoming one again.

Tenzin stood up, brushing the earth from his clothes. "I have to go now," he said. "I have to-" He took a heavy breath, then offered his hand to Pema. He pulled her to his lips as he helped her to her feet, cradling one hand behind her neck and resting his forehead against hers after they broke from the kiss.

"I love you," he reaffirmed. "Things will be okay someday."

Tenzin knew that he was the bad guy, and he had never wanted to be. He had fully intended on loving Lin Beifong forever. He had known since he was nine, when in the earliest hours of the morning he had woken to the small girl crawling into his bed, wrapping her arms around him and crying into his back. It was the only time he ever heard Lin Beifong cry, and he didn't even turn to comfort her. He lay there for the next few hours, acting asleep, but nowhere near it. She emptied herself of tears on him, then whispered to him, told him things that he never forgot. They both knew that he was only pretending, but somehow at that age he knew that he could give her that one courtesy.

When she finally fell asleep, Tenzin could see the sun coming up through his bedroom window. He turned over to face Lin, traced her nose and eyes and jaw with one finger, just the lightest touch so not to disturb her. He knew he loved her then. It was his turn to whisper secrets to her. He had promised her the rest of his life as she slept, and she didn't even know. Promised her that he would love her like his father loved his mother, that he would always be there for her.

Leaving the lantern behind for Pema, Tenzin started his way up the path in the dark. Even if the vow had been pledged without Lin's knowledge, by a small boy fueled by grief and first love, Tenzin still couldn't help but feel as if he was losing a part of himself for breaking it. But it was a part he had to lose.