Disclaimer: "Hold on To the world we all remember dying for There's some hope left in it yet"

(An: So these are my responses to the prompts for Tokka Week 4 over on DA. They form a loosely cohesive AU where Aang died shortly after the fall of Ba Sing Se. So far, the story is semi-cohesive, but I think I'll have to skip backwards at least once. We'll see.)

Usually, Katara was the one who held them all together—her arms were always stretched wide to welcome someone, ready to pull them into a group hug. But after Aang's death, her grief was boundless. Even Sokka barely dared approach, lest she snap at him or bury him under the same sadness that held her fast.

They all felt it, after all. What were they supposed to do now? Yes, they would go to the Northern Water Tribe in search of the Avatar—all of the babies of the Southern Water tribe had already been born—but how was that an answer? How would they know him or her? And how could they wait another ten or fifteen years to end this thrice-damned war?

Sokka didn't have the answers, even though everyone expected him to. And then he learned of Suki's capture, and his grief, already great, turned as endless as Katara's. He had no ideas, no clever plans, hardly any sarcasm.

In the end, it had to be Toph. She was upset too, of course. It was her kingdom that had fallen. Even insulated from the problems of the war at the Bei Fong estate, she had always had a vague sort of pride in her nation, the same way she was proud of being one of the noblest families in the Earth Kingdom. By crippling her state, they had crippled her, and that was the sort of thing Toph simply would not stand for. And, of course, she'd been a lot fonder of Twinkletoes than she'd ever let on.

But, in the end, she was practical: it went even deeper in her heart than her pride or her endless stubbornness. If they could not use the old solution, they would have to find a new one, and it would not be in the Earth Kingdom.

So it was her fault they left Ba Sing Se. Toph bothered them until they listened: she screamed and ranted, sometimes even reached out a hand in tender support. And finally, they listened to her. They found a safe enclave for the Earth King, and then the three of them set out on Appa for the Northern Water Tribe.

There wasn't much talk on the journey north. Sokka and Katara were lost in brooding over people they could never have saved, even given the chance, and Toph was too busy being frustrated at them both. But, for once in her life, she held her tongue, biting it so hard sometimes that it bled. She had no patience for doom-saying or helplessness or depression that wouldn't end, but at least they were going along with her. It didn't matter what they said as long as they kept going.

O-o-O-o-O

Toph shivered. The air had started smelling different as soon as they reached the tip of the Earth Kingdom. Now, after three days without land, even the salt smell began to fade. Toph hated it. She couldn't see, there was nothing to hear except Katara and Sokka's griping and Appa's quiet noises of distress, and now there was nothing to smell. She was powerless, and soon she would be senseless. And it was freezing.

Shivering, she crept across the saddle—they had found a replacement in storage in Ba Sing Se—until she touched leg. Sokka. After a moment, he put an arm around her and pulled her close; for someone who never remembered she was blind for more than five minutes, he was awfully sympathetic when he knew she couldn't see. "We're almost there," he said softly. He never spoke at normal volume these days, like he was afraid he would wake his—or Katara's—ghosts if he said anything too loudly.

Toph scowled, pressing into his warmth. He smelled of sweat and unwashed furs, but it was better than the antiseptic lack of smell coming off the sea. "And what are we going to find when we get there? Ice. Nothing but ice. That sounds like a great improvement."

A few weeks ago, Katara might have snapped at her for being disrespectful; Sokka might have laughed and told her she should learn to waterbend. Now there was nothing but silence. Toph sighed. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when we get there."

O-o-O-o-O

Gentle hands nudging her, waking her from a sleep that was never deep enough these days. The smell of the sea was everywhere now, and she heard splashing—were they in the water? Sokka, as always, became her eyes without even being asked. "We're just going through the front gate now. It's a lot bigger than it used to be, trust me."

Toph lifted her head. Wet air touched her face; faintly, she smelled more furs and the sharp tang of resin and pitch. Waterbenders and boats. Fantastic. "Let me guess. You're going to tell me this place doesn't have any earth."

Sokka made an apologetic noise. "It's a waterbending city. What can I say?"

Toph crossed her arms, although really she wanted to reach over and touch Sokka's face, check his expression. For a moment, she thought she'd heard a touch of the meek good humor he'd had on the day he'd left with Aang for Chameleon Bay, but then he turned away. Toph stayed sitting down. There was no way for her to tell her location on Appa's back without a hand to guide her; she hated that almost as much as the cold.

When they arrived, Sokka started describing the situation to him again. "The chief's here, waiting for us. We're going up to his meeting room to discuss the plan." His voice held none of the excitement it might have a month ago. "The whole thing's ice." He paused. "Uh, you should probably put some boots on. I know you hate shoes, but it's not like you can see anyway."

Toph's mouth twisted to the side, but before she could insult Sokka for his usual lack of tact, gentle hands brushed the soles of her feet. Katara's hands. "Here. I have a pair that might fit you." Toph started. Katara hadn't spoken in days, not since they'd left the land. As far as Toph knew, she'd spent the entire journey perched on Appa, holding his reins. Her voice was even softer than Sokka's.

Toph wanted to reach for her, but she'd never been very good at comforting people. Instead, she sat still as Katara slipped warm leather boots on her feet. It felt odd, but they were soft, and they didn't even smell too bad. "Thanks, Katara," Toph whispered. She reached up for Katara's face before the other girl moved away and just touched her for a second, studying her features the only way she knew how.

Katara moved away, and Toph shook her head at her own foolishness. Grief wasn't a physical thing; you couldn't feel it like she felt the leather saddle beneath her.

Sokka approached her again and twined his arm through hers. Toph always felt like she should protest this, but she liked the contact more than she wanted to admit. And, anyway, she needed the help. She heard Katara slip off the saddle; then Sokka gently pulled her down.

It was strange, to say the least. She could hear her boots touch the snow, hear the crunch, but she couldn't sense it like she could earth. At least her toes were warm. She'd borrowed one of Katara's spare parkas, but it was still freezing. Sokka led her up a huge set of stairs. She could hear other people, other voices, but no one spoke very loudly. Obviously, they all already knew of the fall of the Earth Kingdom.

Wasn't there any joy left anywhere?

The stairs finally leveled out into a long platform. They walked through a large set of doors—Toph felt the air shift, heard the creak of leather and wood—and into a room that felt very large. Sokka bent down to whisper in her ear, his lips so close she blushed, even though his voice was factual instead of affectionate. "This is the reception area. The chief's over there, waiting for us." Sokka drew in a soft breath, like something had stung him.

Toph tilted her head, wishing for the thousandth time she could see his face. "What is it?"

"It's nothing." He was lying; his whole body was trembling slightly. "It's just... being in this place brings back a lot of memories." Memories of what, he wouldn't say, and Toph didn't press the issue. Their conversations were depressing enough without bringing more angst into it.

O-o-O-o-O

The chief already knew what had happened in the Earth Kingdom. He had sent messages to the Southern Water Tribe, urging their kinfolk to join them so they could close off the tribe from the world forever. Toph protested this—it was giving in—but eventually the defeated way everyone spoke to her shut her up. There was no use trying to save someone who didn't want saving.

She stood sullenly, listening to Sokka discuss how they would fortify the tribe against further attack, so that somehow the Water Tribes would continue surviving, even without the Avatar to save them. They sounded so defeated, as if they were already certain this was just a stall.

Then the discussion turned to finding the new Avatar. The tribe had collected all the babies born a week before or after they had gotten word of Aang's death. Protecting them was the first priority. The toys used for testing the Avatar had been passed on to the Water Tribe after Aang's confirmation, so they already had the tools they needed to find the next incarnation. At least they had saved him long enough to keep him from dying in the Avatar state—although, in Toph's opinion, having him wake once only to never wake again was almost as bad.

O-o-O-o-O

Once the meeting was over, the three of them retreated to their guest quarters. Toph clung to Katara this time. She hadn't spoken much during the discussion, only to clarify a point or register vague agreement. Without the close quarters of traveling, it was easy to forget she was there at all; she was like a ghost.

They all set about claiming their space as though this was no different from any other part of their journey, as though Aang would walk through the cloth door at any moment and spread his bedroll beside Katara's. Toph couldn't stand the silence. She sat down on her furs and pulled her knees up to her chest. "...So what are we going to do now?" she asked softly.

Sokka's answer was sharper than usual. Toph suspected he hated the retreat as much as she did, though both of them knew there was really no other option. "What do you mean, what are we going to do? We're going to stay here and help them make this place safe against the Fire Nation. Once word reaches them that Aang's dead, this is the first place they'll attack. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have to search the whole damn Earth Kingdom for the next one."

Toph scowled. "What am I supposed to do? I can't bend here—I can't even help you guys build."

The beads in Sokka's hair—he'd taken to wearing them for some reason—clacked as he shook his head. "You'll stay with Katara and the kids. You know, do girl stuff." Toph's scowl deepened, but before she could say anything, Sokka sighed. "Don't... don't snap at me. I didn't mean to say it like that. There's an oasis here—it's earth, not ice. I'm sure the waterbenders can expand it or something, make a place we can keep the kids if we get attacked. You could bend there."

Toph kept scowling. "And what am I supposed to do 'til then, huh? Sit around picking my toes? You know I'm no good with kids." She paused. Her voice came out much softer than she would have liked. "I'm useless here, Sokka, and you know it."

Sokka's voice was penitent, abashed. "You're not useless." He touched the tip of her boot; Toph scooted back. She had her pride, no matter how much she wanted the rift between them closed. "You're never useless. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you."

"You're damn straight," Toph muttered, hiding her face in her knees.

It was quiet in their little shelter for a while, and then, wonder of wonders, Katara spoke. "Toph's right, Sokka. What's the point of you two staying here?" Before Aang's death, her voice, even when shouting, had been sweet, sparkling, like water dripping over gemstones. Now it was hoarse, like the call of the messenger hawks. Toph heard Sokka sit up, but Katara made a quelling noise. "I think she's got a point. I mean, neither of you can bend here, so you can't help rebuild, and when the Fire Nation comes... you'll both just be in danger."

Sokka squawked. "I can fight! I should fight! Our tribe's coming here, too—did you forget that?"

Katara sighed. It was such a melancholy sound that, for a moment, Toph thought she would retreat into herself again. But she continued, her voice no louder or softer than it had been before. "That's not what I meant. I think... I think you two would be better used elsewhere, that's all."

"What, like the Fire Nation? Well, let's saddle up Appa and head on down to the palace, why don't we? I'm sure Azula's looking for volunteers to test her skills on." Sokka's voice was crueler than it used to be, which only made Toph frown more. She hated hearing them bicker—especially now, when they needed to be most united. They had each other; they needed that cohesion.

There was silence for a long moment. Toph felt it like she could usually feel vibrations; it was a physical thing, something that had ridden with them all the way here. She hugged her knees more tightly and closed her eyes, though she saw the same thing either way.

Sokka moved; the rustle of cloth suggested he'd embraced Katara. "I'm sorry, okay?" he muttered. "We're all on edge right now, that's all."

"I know," Katara answered, her voice hardly anything at all. She sighed. "Can I tell you my idea now?" There was a pause, suggesting Sokka had nodded. "...I think the two of you should go to the Earth Kingdom." Toph lifted her head, intrigued despite herself. She'd barely been here half a day, but already she was desperate for ground under her feet, the smell of grass instead of water.

Sokka made a strangled noise. "...Katara, you have no idea how hard it is for me not to snap at you right now." He let out a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was overly careful. "Why, exactly, do you think that?"

"She's got a point, Sokka," said Toph. Another rustle said they had both turned to look at her. "I mean, I can't do anything here—no matter what you think about this 'oasis,' Katara's the one who's good with kids—and... what are you going to do? Get killed on the front lines?" Her voice was rough, raw; she didn't want to admit how many times she'd thought of just that. Aang she could bear. He was just a friend, no matter how important he might be. Sokka... Sokka understood her, even though he was the world's biggest idiot.

Sokka sighed. "I know, I know. I... I guess you're right. I mean, I feel like I should stay here and back up my tribe, but..." He sighed a second time; the beads in his hair clacked again. "What, you think we should go down there and raise hell or something?"

Despite herself, Toph's lips twitched. "I was thinking find a place to hide my people, but I like your idea better. If we don't mess with the Fire Nation, who will?"

Sokka didn't speak for a moment. "...Katara... are you really sure you want me to leave? You're—"

"I'm fine, Sokka." Katara's voice was like a frayed rope, only holding on by a string. She must have heard it too; she cleared her throat. When she spoke again, she sounded a little more rational. "Okay, I'm not fine. But I will be. I have to. I'll just... stay here. Protect the ones I can, help fix things. And you guys can go keep the Fire Nation from wrecking the Earth Kingdom. Maybe we can't save Ba Sing Se anymore, but we've gotta make sure there'll still be people worth saving when the new Avatar is ready to fight." She sighed and got to her feet. "I'm going to go down to the healer's enclave, see the kids. I'm not going to be able to get any rest tonight."

Toph rested her head on her knees again. The silence always took on a different quality when she was alone with Sokka—there was still the grief, heavy like the air before a thunderstorm, but there was also that quiet embarrassment of being alone with her crush, one who would never notice.

After a few minutes, Sokka came over and sat down beside her, just close enough that their sides brushed. Toph didn't hesitate to snuggle into him: not just for the contact; even though the walls kept the wind away, it was still cold. Sokka settled an arm around her shoulders in that absent way of his. "Well, I guess it'll just be you and me, then." His head fell back against the wall. "So much for Team Avatar."

Toph tilted toward him. "We're still Team Avatar." Sokka turned his head—he was probably looking at her funny. She'd never stopped making fun of him for all his stupid nicknames. "We're just... doing different things, that's all. When the new Avatar gets old enough, Katara will bring him to me, and it'll be just like the old days. It was always her and him anyway. It's nothing new."

She could hear the smile in Sokka's voice when he replied; it made her smile, too. "I guess that means it's always been you and me, then, huh?" Toph nodded, a gesture she'd picked up from years of living around sighted people. "I guess I can live with that. You're pretty okay—for a bender, I mean." He ruffled her hair.

Toph punched his arm for that, but she was grinning, despite herself. He'd sounded like the old Sokka again, just for a moment. Maybe there was still some hope left in them after all.

(I promise the next few days are better. Reviews are very much appreciated.)