Yeah, yeah, I know. I SHOULD be working on a million other things right now. Dragon Keeper, Spirited, These Three Days, Western Air Temple, to name but a few.

BUUUUT I couldn't let this go. All these unsatisfactory Hakoda meets Aang stories really got to me, and...there's quite a bit going on that we don't see while Aang's on his spirit world journey desperateley trying to save the Avatar spirit, and almost dying the whole entire time.

So...read, review, and enjoy. Emphasis on reviewing if you enjoy. =)


Katara wouldn't move him. "I can't. He-" she couldn't finish, but she couldn't cry. If she moved, he would move, and he would get worse. She couldn't get off of Appa's head until they got to wherever they were going, and that meant Sokka couldn't take control.

"You're going to have to," Sokka protested, climbing down gingerly, a hand attached to the saddle. "Just…cup him in your arms or something and move over! I need to get up there!"

Katara moved slightly. She gathered Aang close to her, scooting farther over so Sokka could stumble down and take the reins. "Yip yip." Appa made a noise and they turned abruptly. Aang rocked in Katara's arms, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Will he live?" Toph didn't care. The Earth King wasn't King of anything anymore, his kingdom, her kingdom, his stupid city had fallen. She punched him. He whimpered.

"I don't know." No one had expected Katara to talk, and when she did, her voice was hoarse, aggrieved. "I tried to heal his back with the water from the Spirit Oasis, but…"

"Good going," Toph muttered. The King had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

"He has to be okay," Sokka answered firmly. "It's his job to defeat the Fire Lord-"

"Do you even hear yourself?" whispered Katara viciously. "Aang died, Sokka! And all you can talk about – about – is – the stupid Fire Lord! Don't you even care that he's – Aang?" Tears dropped from her eyes, wetting the torn, dirty fabric of Aang's shirt. She smoothed some of it down, and noticed that his skin was too cold.

Wordlessly, she clutched him tighter. He was alive, she knew it. He'd died, but he'd been brought back.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Toph regretted saying anything, but Sokka's voice said from ahead of her, "Chameleon Bay. Where the other Water Tribe warriors are."

Katara raised her head. Dad. No – Aang made a noise, halfway between a moan and a whimper, and she held his bald head closer to her. No matter what was wrong with her and her dad, Aang was more important.

"Let's go."

...

Hakoda hadn't expected to see the bison back again. When the Avatar had come with that anguished look on his face that meant Katara was in trouble, he never thought he would see the children again. He thought they would disappear, maybe go into hiding, save Katara, and he would never know about it.

Therefore, his world was rocked as everyone departed from the Sky Bison (including the King of the Earth Kingdom and his pet bear) except Katara. Her hair was down, massive waves whipping in the wind, and she was huddled over the bison's head.

"Help." Sokka was standing directly under her, his arms raised. Hakoda rushed over, about to demand what was wrong, expecting to see Katara jump (or fall) into Sokka's hands. However, she inched closer to the edge. Then she planted herself down.

"I'm not doing it," she said. "I can't."

Through the gap in her tattered sleeve, something was visible – Hakoda looked closer and saw skin. A head with a blue arrow tattooed onto it, lolling back against her, clearly unconscious.

"Katara-"

His daughter ignored him. "He'll get hurt. You're going to have to help me by getting up here."

Grumbling, Sokka reached up, swinging on the bison's gigantic horn. Katara got closer until she was almost standing. Hakoda could see the child now – the Avatar's clothes were torn, his foot was swollen, red, and black and bleeding, and there was a ragged hole in his back. His eyes were shut, his mouth hanging open, and Katara wasn't going to let go.

Hakoda helped brace Sokka, but his son, too, ignored him. Katara was crying, he could see. And carefully – so, so carefully, she passed the dead boy down to him.

Sokka hopped to the ground, and didn't even stagger under what seemed to be hardly any weight. Faintly, Katara slid off the bison's head and ordered, "Lay him out."

A small girl with mounds of black hair dressed in Earth Kingdom colors stood by Katara. At her nod, the girl raised her arms sharply, erecting a shelter of rock that separated the group from the tent town of the Southern Water Tribe.

"Sokka, water," instructed his daughter, and Hakoda leaned closer. Why in the world would they be doing all this for the dead Avatar? Surely the Earth Kingdom had fallen, or the world was coming to an end, but no one was doing anything about it. Instead, they were taking orders from Katara, who seemed to have wrangled control over herself.

Sokka ran toward the bay, and came back seconds later frantically toting baskets filled to the brim.

Katara took a deep breath. "Turn him over." The Earthbender hastened to obey, gently turning the Avatar's shoulders so he was lying on his stomach. She then sat at his head, holding it in her lap. She held his bald head, as if assuring herself that he had to be alive.

Then Katara raised her arms, summoning the water to rise from her either side. Hakoda was too worried for their friend to be impressed at his daughter's prowess, but instead watched, leaning against the earthen wall, as she brought the water down, gently, to the Avatar's open back.

"AH!" Hakoda's heart stopped. The Avatar's eyelids fluttered open and he grunted in pain. The Earthbender grinned. "Twinkletoes!" Obviously he didn't hear her. The Avatar was alive! Somehow, with fatal injuries. It looked like lightning to him, but there was no way –

Katara's hands glowed with unearthly blue light, filling the shelter and dazzling his eyes. When he was able to look at the Avatar's back again, it had closed somewhat, still looking red and raw, and his face was contorted, grimacing in pain and torment that only he could feel.

Katara moaned, and moved her hands to his foot, closing it as well.

"uuha.." his voice was weak, but he coughed, and said softly, "Katara – help-"

She began crying again, fiercely protective, she swooped over him, her tattered skirts flying up. "What? What is it?"

"Th- the Avatar Spirit. It's – dying. Help…me."

"Anything."

Hakoda couldn't help it. He broke down, and tears fell from his eyes. Through the haze of his daughter's misery, he could see her, crouched at the Avatar's limp form, her hands working magic. She was whispering, and he could understand: "You can do it."

The Earthbender was crying, too, and it looked highly unusual on her. She was sniffling, tears streaming on either side of her face, and she wasn't bothering to wipe them away. "Aang- you have to live. You have to."

His son, Sokka, suddenly reentered the tent with yet more water. "Aang – you're okay!" Sokka, who he had not seen cry since the days of Kaya's passing, had water in his eyes. After briefly stooping to check on the unconscious boy, he backed up to the edge of the tent. "Just – do whatever you can," he said softly to Katara. Then he wrapped a strong, brotherly arm around the Earthbender.

Hakoda did, too, causing a threefold embrace. His daughter was too frantic to leave the side of the Avatar, but still he muttered, "I'm sorry for your loss." He had no idea how to respond, other than the misery he felt from his children's distress. The Avatar was the world's last hope, but here he was, dying in his daughter's arms. Broken, bloodied, and seemingly very different from the monster who destroyed the Fire Navy and punished an Earth Kingdom general. But then again, if he was a monster, his friends wouldn't care so dearly for him.

Sokka made eye contact with him, and said simply, "It's your loss too."

"Stop," Katara's voice was a broken whisper. "He might be down, but he's not gone. And we're not giving up hope. Not… yet."

Even through all the years of war and pain and suffering the Fire Nation had put them through, losing Kaya, battling together, leaving them on their own for years, Hakoda had never felt so close to his children.

He only regretted that it had taken the life of the Avatar to do so.