10.

A year passes. For Aang, it is another decade.

Republic City is finished. Young families arrive with joyous expectations, and Aang observes cheerfully. Lord Zuko aids him on welcoming the new inhabitants, however neither speak much to one another. Without a doubt, Aang is proud of their achievement. To bring all the elements together, to have created a Nation which openly accepts any background, it is one of the greatest accomplishments he has made as the Avatar.

But it isn't for him. Aang can't recall the last time he ever dedicated himself to something, for his own sake. And that's okay. He can live with that. As the Avatar, he doesn't have a choice. Building a Nation of his own, joining people together, creating harmony – that's all he wants. If he dies alone, without children, or a partner to hold him, then, at least, he will have created peace. That is his duty first and foremost.

Everything else doesn't matter.

'Would you have married Katara?'

Aang smiles at Zuko, and shakes his head. That question he's expected for a while, and Zuko says it so out-of-the-blue. At the wrong moment. The wrong time. When Aang is anything but himself, and can't really talk.

'No,' he replies. 'Not in this lifetime, anyway.'

'You okay?'

But Zuko knows. Something is wrong, and something has been wrong for too long.

'Tired. Mind if I call it a day?'

Zuko frowns, unconvinced. 'Sure. The Palace has many rooms to choose from, so you're welcome to take your pick.'

'Thanks.'

Sleep doesn't come easy. The very second Aang's head hits the pillow, he collapses into his dreams. And they're tiresome. His mind manifests voices and faces he has experienced before, and they are phenomena he knows all too well.

Aang exclaims. Subconsciously grabs the sheets and tugs. He can see him, as clear as day. A man, a spider, creeping down to meet him, to taunt him, to grin. Ah, fool. Idiot. You let her go again. He cackles and he laughs, and Aang can't get away. Koh reaches out with his long hands, grabs him, strokes his head, and reminds him over and over–

You've lost her before.

There is a woman, with long, brown hair; brown eyes, a smile: Ummi. And then a man, desperate and heartbroken: Kuruk, and Aang can see his agony. He can feel it. To lose her. To lose her all over again. In his dream, Aang drops to his knees and begs Koh to stop taunting him.

Because he knows. He knows they should never have kissed, they should never have made love, and, yes, he's a fool. A lovesick, pathetic man who can't cope.

Aang jolts awake. The sheets are drenched in his sweat, and he pants, gasping for oxygen. In his mind, again and again, he tries to convince himself – it's all just a dream. But it's not. This is real. Toph may be the recinarntaed soul of a lost lover, but what Aang feels, what he fears – so terrified of losing her once more – those emotions are true.

He abandons the bed. Steps out of his room. The Palace is huge, but, over time, Aang has grown accustomed to its large space. He can make his way around without asking for directions. A maid walks by him, but apart from she, the Palace is empty. Aang sighs, dressed only in a loose-fitted robe, proceeding down a hall.

What he needs, he doesn't know, but air is one of them.

Outside the Palace doors, the garden can't be seen due to the lack of light. Aang can still smell the flowers, though. The fresh grass. Its openness. Hands behind his back, he stands on the step leading into the building. Inhales. Exhales. But he can't rid of those faces, those things he experienced, and he knows he can't let them go.

Every night, he will dream about Koh, Kuruk and Ummi.

Since Toph left him, that's all he's been able to dream about. As if to remind him–

But Toph isn't Ummi. They are two completely different people. Fate is cruel that they meet again, but Toph is her own person, and she is not destined to die like Ummi. So Aang can breathe, and understand that she isn't leaving him. Except, since they parted ways, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her. He misses her.

Even now, after a year, thinking about what they had done in the Eastern Temple. How she looked, the way she sounded, how wonderful she felt against him. Aang swallows, a familiar tightening growing below his groin, and he shakes his head roughly.

He wonders if she's over him. If she's moved on.

Toph was supposed to aid him on the birth of Republic City, but he's lost all contact with her. Not to his surprise, she had left completely. Toph has this habit of abandoning everybody around her, and searching for somewhere new. Starting again. When things get too scary, too emotional, when she starts to feel vulnerable, she has to runaway.

The police force said she had simply quit. No excuse. Where she had gone, they didn't know, and so Aang was left in the dark.

Should he have confessed? When they were alone in the Temple, should Aang have grabbed her, told her–

I–

I love–

Aang opens his eyes. Somebody has come out to see him. Changed their mind, and turned away.

He recognises their presence intimately.

Heart in his mouth, Aang turns. 'Katara?'

It will always take him by surprise. How beautiful she is with her hair down, the warmth of her eyes, and how, even after everything, she still smiles at him as if he's an angel. Aang's breath catches, and he softens his expression.

'You don't have to leave,' he says.

'I didn't want to disturb you.'

'You're–no, I'm–Can you stay?'

Katara blinks, says softly, 'Yeah.'

For a while, she does just that. Stays. She waits for Aang to calm down, to ease himself from whatever traumatised him enough to step out here. Aang has always found Katara to be soothing; she eases him more than anybody else.

It takes him a moment to realise this is the first time in a while since they've spoken. The day they broke up was the last time they saw each other. And that was so long ago now. Aang realises she's nervous, and it shocks him to find he is as well. They never discussed their separation, how they were, what they had done since then.

Aang cuddles her. He closes the gap between them, and cuddles her close. She's home. Somewhere he belongs, and he buries his face into the crook of her neck while she holds him. Neither have to say anything. She knows. She knows he's sorry for the way things ended between them, and she knows he's hurt – and who hurt him.

'What happened?'

Aang sighs, tightening their embrace. He scrunches his eyes shut.

'I think I've made a mistake.'

Now, he can feel Katara shaking. She's upset. Upset for Aang, upset for Toph; upset they've caused pain to each other. And it angers her too. Because the world is just obsessed in harming people, making people cry, making people fall to their knees and bleed–

So why do her two best friends have to do this to each other?

Why? What's the point?

Damn it, they've been through enough.

'How?'

'I think–' he retreats slightly, and she's able to look at his face, at his tired eyes, his age. But he's been thinking so much, too much, and what does it matter what he thinks? Aang has done enough thinking. He needs to live a life where he doesn't think at all. Where he does what he wants to without the consequences, where loving another person doesn't have to be so impossible. 'I've lost somebody, and I can't have them again.'

Katara looks away briefly. 'This is Toph.'

And they know what she's like. They know she doesn't do attachment. She doesn't like to be made vulnerable. She doesn't like talking about her own emotions. She would much rather ignore them completely, and pretend all is okay with the world, when it's not.

It's really fucking not, and now Aang is slipping–

'Did you–? Have you–?'

Did you both let your guard down? Have you both slept together?

Did you show her how you felt?

And, did she do the same?

'Yes,' Aang breathes.

'Aang,' she tries, 'I'm only saying this because I love you, and I don't want you to hope too much, but she's–'

'It's not–' words fail him. He stares at her, utterly helpless. Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no, he can't get emotional over this, over her. 'That isn't what this is about.' But it is. He is hoping. He's hoping, out of some miracle, Toph might realise her own stupidity and change her mind. That she might, somehow, want him. Aang exhales, lowering his head, 'But, Katara – she wouldn't. After everything, she can't just–' he jars his teeth, hard enough for them to shatter, '–leave me.'

Katara nearly winces at his naivety.

She presses her lips together, looking at him as if he were the dumbest, most lovely boy in the world.

'You know,' she holds her breath, 'This isn't the first time she's done this.'

'I–yeah.'

'I love her, too. And she–' Katara steps back, out of frustration. Frustration for Aang, but frustration over Toph for being who she is. '–she's selfish, and you know why she's selfish, Aang. It's just how she copes, and we can't blame her for that. But, you can't–she's not who you want her to be. You can't force that responsibility on her.'

Aang is struck. He needs a moment to just realise.

Toph said once. That they be together once, and he agreed, and he–

Once isn't enough. He wants more than once. He wants every night, every morning. He wants arguments, and the paradox of their love. He wants her. He's always wanted her, even without knowing it. Without her, what is he? Without her, he wouldn't be the Avatar. He saw her, loved her, before he met her.

Aang blushes a deep shade of scarlet.

'I've missed you.'

His confession doesn't necessarily reflect his true emotions, but having Katara to help him make sense of everything, to help him know – Toph was never his to lose.

The fact tears him apart.

'I've missed you too, Aang.'

'Sorry I never–' his voice breaks. Aang swears. Shit. He's falling. 'I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner.'

'Yeah, I'm sorry too.'

'I couldn't. I couldn't face you, and then Toph–' he stops.

Then Toph. He deliberately sought her after Katara. He just wanted to see her. Not for anything in particular. Just a friend who would slap some sense into him, and he never thought things would end up like this.

Toph. Damn it. Fuck her.

Fuck her for ruining him. For kissing him, for fucking him, for holding him, for just–

Making it so easy to fall in love with her.

His eye twitches. Has she done this before with other men and women? An absurd rush of jealousy crashes through him, and he makes a sincere effort to ignore it.

Then he stops. Ceases. No. No, he won't think about that, won't think about her that way. He won't be a child and retaliate like only a child would. He's Aang, and he's the Avatar, and Toph would never mean to hurt him.

Katara kisses the corner of his mouth. Just there. Just one.

'I'm no better either,' she admits. 'Zuko and I had become very close, and I felt–' like shit for doing that to you, '–you needed your space. I guess I'm sorry–I'm sorry things ended the way they did.' Aang looks at her, brow raised. 'Between you two.'

'Yeah?' He twitches a smile. 'Thanks, Katara.'

'..w–what, why? What for?'

'I dunno. Being patient with me all this time. Not leaving me. I don't know, I just–you mean so much to me, and I was scared we wouldn't have been able to reconcile the damage. If that makes sense.'

'Aang,' she rolls her eyes, 'Of course we would.'

'I just can't tell how long this is going to take.'

Losing Toph, losing what he had with Katara, and he dreads to know what is next.

How long will it take for him to move on?

If ever.

'Give it time,' Katara whispers, 'Give her time.'