A/N: First off, I changed the ending to the previous oneshot, in case you're interested in reading it.

Secondly, thank you all for the wonderful and often helpful reviews you've given me. I never dreamed of breaking 200, and you guys are really and truly some of the coolest people I've met on the internet. Much love!

Now, onto this oneshot. I was supposed to leave today, but certain, ah, circumstances kept me back. So instead, I finished this oneshot that I had begun and gave up on. It's happy and sad at the same time!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading!

On Middle Ground

In a sloping field of white flowers, where the air was perfect and he felt as if his very soul were floating, Aang opened his eyes and found that he was dead.

Or, at least, he thought as much. Where had he been before opening his eyes? A dark corridor, a chamber where the stench of death filled his nose and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead. Now here he was, lying face-up in the softest grass that he had ever felt, wearing the whitest of monk's robes and feeling more refreshed than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Aang sat up and took a look around. An endless sea of grass, trees, and flowers stretched out before him like the world on a platter; the feeling of peace associated with his surroundings contrasted so tremendously with the scene that he had just (unwillingly?) left behind that he felt almost dizzy. He felt no sadness, no weighing down in his chest, no pain. His shoulders stood straight and held in a posture that could only mean the world no longer sat on them. When he Airbended to his feet and raised a hand to shield the pleasantly warm sun from his eyes, a voice rang out like a clear bell.

"Aang!"

He spun around and saw Katara standing a few yards away, a white gown draped over her body and a wonderful smile on her face. Her hair was not down as it had been, but tied back in the braid and hair loopies that he once known so well. A bright smile sprang to his face.

"Katara!"

In a flash, she had run up to the Avatar and thrown her arms around his neck. Aang picked her up by the waist and spun her around, both of them laughing as if the war had never happened at all. He set her on her feet and she hugged him, tightly.

"Aang, you did it!" she exclaimed. "It's all over. The war is finally over!"

"It's amazing," he breathed, never taking his gray eyes away from her blue ones. "And look at us, Katara; we're both dead."

At this, Katara laughed and said, "Not quite. This is the middle ground, the place that separates the realms of the living and the dead."

"Yeah, so?"

"So," she continued, gesturing to herself. "I am dead."

Aang raised an eyebrow. "That's what I said before!"

Katara finished her thought: "And you, Aang, are not."

"I – what?!"

"Well, just look at yourself!"

Sure enough, when Aang looked down, he saw that he was no longer dressed in white robes, but in the tattered Fire Nation garb he'd been wearing when he thought he'd died.

Aang looked up, mouth ajar, and realized that he was speechless. "But I was… and you!" He and Katara stared at one another for a few moments before he finally spoke again. "So, I have to go back?"

Nodding, Katara answered, "You've been given another chance. Take it while you can! There's still so much you can still give to the world, Aang."

Now Aang sighed for the first time, already feeling an acute reluctance and a bout of physical pain. He looked over Katara's shoulder at the beautiful landscape and wished that he could stay. But alas, he knew it was not an option; as the Avatar, he still had a lot of work to do, and the world needed him to do it. His eyes flickered back to Katara, whose small smile seemed to reassure him, and he took a deep breath for strength.

"If I have to leave you, then I have something to tell you," he began slowly. A gentle breeze wafted by and blew his hair about his forehead. He could feel his various battle wounds beginning to reappear on his body. Time was running short now. "Katara, I lo–"

Aang was silenced a moment later, when Katara brought her lips crashing down on his in a forceful, yet somehow still gentle, kiss. His heart leapt to his throat and his eyes widened in surprise; he wanted to react, but he was far too shocked. When she pulled away a few seconds later, Aang saw that her smile had turned to one of bright amusement.

"I know," she said. "When the time comes for you to pass on, I'll be right here, waiting for you."

"You will?" Aang said, both surprised and thrilled.

Just then, a multitude of voices rang out of the air, though none of the corresponding bodies were present. The first voice belonged to Toph, who sounded as if she were holding back a sob from deep within her chest:

"Come on, Twinkletoes! Open your eyes!"

The second voice was that of Sokka, and was filled with a combination of despair and the last fragments of encouragement. "Come on, Aang; we can't lose you, too…"

A jolt suddenly coursed through Aang's chest. He glanced downward and clapped a hand over his heart in alarm, then turned his eyes to Katara with apprehension and excitement. "You'll wait for me? Are you sure?"

Katara nodded. "I already waited a hundred years for you once. What's a hundred more?"

At this, both Aang and Katara grinned. Quickly, Katara leaned in and kissed him again before straightening his torn collar and turning him around.

"Yes, yes, I'll wait for you!" She laughed, giving him an encouraging push forward. "Now go on, and make sure to tell Toph and Sokka that I love them both."

Aang began walking away from Katara, stopped in his tracks, and glanced back over his shoulder at her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Katara laughed and further motioned him forward with her hands. "Go! They're waiting for you just on the other side."

Aang took a deep breath, smiled, and took off running down the sloping grass. He didn't know where he was going or why he was running, but he could feel his wounds aching and sweat beading on his forehead. He ran on and on, never tired, mind filled with thoughts of Katara and Sokka and Toph, until he felt himself disappear.

Katara watched Aang fade away from sight and the Middle Grounds, a sad smile on her face and a look of longing in her blue eyes.

"I love you, Aang," she breathed, wiping a single tear from her cheek and savoring the breeze that came by, blowing her dress and hair; it was as if Aang himself were blowing by in one of his beloved winds. "Good luck."

-

Aang gasped, opened his eyes, and found that he was lying on the dirty floor of the Fire Palace. Off to his left, several voices began to speak excitedly.

"He's got a heartbeat, Sokka! He's alive!" It was Toph, speaking as if through tears.

The Avatar, who felt rather sick at the moment, could only lie there and wait for his vision to focus properly. Kneeling beside him was Iroh, whose two hands were raised about an inch from Aang's chest. Whether from battle or from rescue attempts, Aang's shirt had been torn open in the front, and he could feel a warm draft on his sweating torso. He groaned between heavy breaths. All around, Aang could hear people rushing around, tending to the wounded and the dead. 'How long had the battle been over for?' He wondered.

Moments later, Sokka and Toph appeared in his vision and dropped to their knees beside him. Toph appeared to be sobbing and clutching Sokka's arm, while Sokka himself had telltale tearstains on his dirty face.

"We thought you were a goner for sure," he said, voice hoarse. "Iroh did some weird Lightningbending, and then your pulse got stronger." When Aang said nothing, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Don't be stupid; he was just almost killed, and then electrocuted. Why would he feel all right?" snapped Toph. Clearly she was semi-embarrassed about being in such an emotional state, and was countering it by lashing out.

As Iroh went about, silently checking to make sure Aang's condition was stable, Sokka awkwardly cleared his throat.

"There's something you should know," he began slowly. Aang heard the tremble in his friend's voice and knew what was coming; his throat tightened. "It's Katara. She's…" Sokka's voice cracked, and he stopped. A few tears leaked from his eyes.

Aang felt his chin tremble. Two tears snaked down his face and splashed to the ground into two tiny puddles.

"It's okay, Sokka. I know."

"You…?"

Though he was in too much pain to consciously move, the smallest of smiles turned in the corners of his mouth. He would tell them all about his encounter – well, maybe not all about it – later. But for now, he would say nothing, and he would dwell upon his meeting with Katara with a sort of heartbroken joy. After all, he would die one day.

And when he did, he would finally be with Katara again, somewhere on Middle Ground.

-

Fin.

A/N: In case you missed it, Iroh basically used his Lightningbending to defibrillate Aang. Katara was past the point of return.

Thanks for reading, and again, thank you for the 209 reviews! Peace, love, and the ships of your choice to all!

- Invaderk