It's raining, hence why I decided to post this somewhat depressing chapter. I had this written a while ago and I wasn't going to post it, but since I haven't updated in a while, I figured I'd post it anyway. I'm still working on Sylvanna's and PandaLily22's requests, so hopefully I can have those up soon. Sorry for such long gaps between updates, but I've been swamped with work lately. I'll still try and update once a week though. Happy readings!
P.S. I borrowed the title from Avril Lavigne's song of the same name, so I can't take credit for it ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
LVI. Slipped Away
I will stay forever here with you, my love.
The softly spoken words you gave me
Even in death our love goes on.
~ Evanescence, Even in Death
"Mother, please try to stay awake."
Katara opened her eyes and blinked in the sunlight filtering in through the window to find Tenzin watching her worriedly. Despite having slept a good sleep last night, she had fallen asleep again. She sighed. She was doing that more often lately, but she couldn't help it. There wasn't much she could do at this age.
"I'm awake," she grumbled, noticing how several people were watching her with worried expressions. She hated when they did that. "Don't gawk at me," she said gently, waving away all the concerned glances. "It isn't as if I'm going to die." The instant the words were out she regretted them. It started a whole another round of fussing and it was more than she could take.
"Maybe you should get some fresh air," Gyatso suggested. Sighing, Katara gently lifted herself from her chair and made her way outside. She loved her family to pieces, but it didn't mean they weren't annoying at times, especially when they acted like she could die any minute. She knew she was old, but still, it was irritating to know that she couldn't do something on her own without someone, somewhere worrying about her.
The spring air outside was cool and although Katara had been instructed to wear her shawl, she cast it off once she was sure no one would see her and began walking. She chuckled to herself when she remembered how she used to disobey her grandmother by running off to play without her mittens or not wearing her hood when it was particularly cold. It was a little different in this case, as she was a grandmother now. She gazed up at the Southern Air Temple rising up behind her. Idly, she wondered if calling it a temple was accurate anymore. Since it had been restored, it had become their house and though she had entertained the idea of moving a few times long ago, she found she didn't have the heart to leave the place and all the wonderful memories attached to it.
Katara gazed at her reflection in the pond and suddenly felt ancient. So much had happened since the century war had ended; it seemed like another lifetime away, almost as if it hadn't happened. There were fewer and fewer people left who remembered anything about the war though Katara remembered most of it clearly.
"You never seem to listen, do you?" She suddenly heard someone chuckle. She smiled when she saw Kya walking towards her with the shawl in her arms. "You're like a little child sometimes, Mother."
"Maybe you're right," Katara replied, shrugging and taking the shawl before Kya could help her put it back on. "But it's your father's fault if I'm that way. He always was a kid at heart."
Kya nodded and cast a sidelong glance at her mother. If Katara felt sad, she was an expert at concealing her emotions because Kya couldn't see anything written on her mother's face.
"You really should wear your shawl," Kya tried again. "You might catch a cold."
"I'll be fine," Katara said, smiling at her daughter. "Honestly, you shouldn't worry so much."
"I'd be lying if I said I would try not to." She admitted. Ever since she had lost her father, she had been diligent in watching her mother, not that Katara needed watching. But, like any daughter, she was scared her mother might get sick or hurt or worse yet, die, and after losing so many people, Kya wasn't sure she could take it if she lost her mother. Perhaps it was why after she, Tenzin, and Gyatso had grown up they hadn't left the Southern Air Temple. Kya had never regretted her decision about not leaving and she was fairly certain her brothers didn't either. After all, they had spent many happy years together before tragedy struck.
"I still miss him," she said softly, stealing a glance at Katara. Katara just nodded. "Sometimes, I forget he's gone. It feels like he never left."
Katara gave a small smile. "The ones you love never truly leave."
Kya knew there was some truth in that. If she listened hard enough, she could still hear her father's laugh echoing within the temple. But it still wasn't the same as having him around. She missed being able to laugh and joke with him or the days they would spend together as a family where he didn't have to worry about his Avatar duties and she didn't have to worry about her waterbending training.
Kya sighed. All this reminiscing made her feel old. "I feel like a grandmother," she said.
Katara laughed and pointed out she would be, eventually, if her children had children. Kya made a face. As much as she loved her children, she didn't like thinking about being a grandmother. It made her feel so much older than she really was.
"You shouldn't complain so much," Katara said. "Look at me; I can't do half the things I used to. And I look more like an old woman than you ever will."
Kya rolled her blue eyes. Her mother had always been a beautiful and vibrant woman and she found that old age hadn't done much to change that. She still had a vivacious personality, a spring to her step, and unlike many women her age, her hair was still its original brown and didn't have much gray in it.
"I'd hardly say you're old, Mother. If people can live to be over a hundred, you're still considered young. And you don't look a day over fifty."
Katara laughed. "If you say so."
"Are you not happy?" Kya asked, softly.
"What?"
Kya sighed. "Ever since Dad passed away, you seem…oh, I don't know, different, somehow. Like you're not really you."
Katara sighed. "I am happy, I really am. But I'm just trying to reconcile myself with the truth that I can't have the best of both worlds. There's nothing more I'd love than to watch all my grandchildren grow up, Kya, but the same time, I want to see your father again. And my mother."
Kya nodded understandingly. The process of dying seemed to be some sort of limbo; it was bittersweet. The promise of being reunited with loved ones already gone seemed like a wonderful idea, but it did little to alleviate the pain of leaving other loved ones behind. She could imagine just how her mother felt.
The weeks passed slowly and though Katara was careful not to worry her family, they could tell she was getting weaker. She'd never admit it herself, but it was getting harder for her to do ordinary things. But the others were perceptive. Kya had discovered that her mother could barely stand five minutes outside in the pleasant spring air before feeling cold and complaining of a chill and Tenzin himself caught Katara bemoaning her lack of energy. One afternoon, Tenzin and Pema had been going over important matters when Jinora had walked in and told him that her grandmother had barely eaten her lunch and was constantly falling asleep. Tenzin had told her not to worry and that lots of elderly people were like that, but it just reinforced everyone's belief that, whether they liked it or not, Katara was slowly dying.
One rather bleak afternoon found the residents of the Southern Air Temple running around, like bees, rushing to and fro in search of something. Katara had suddenly disappeared and Kya and Tenzin had immediately started looking for her with Gyatso's and Kya's children and Jinora, Meelo, and Ikki, in tow. It was Kya, Gyatso and Tenzin who found her, however, sitting on the edge of the marble fountain in a secluded courtyard and looking rather despondent.
Her surprise was readily apparent when her children attacked her with hugs and gently scolded her for scaring the life out of them, but she merely chuckled and said they shouldn't be so melodramatic.
"What were you doing, anyway?" Tenzin demanded.
The smile suddenly vanished from Katara's face. "Waterbending," she said. "But I can't." She sighed. "I guess I really am old."
Kya didn't say anything, but merely fixed her gaze on her reflection in the fountain, trying her hardest not to cry. She'd barely gotten over her father's death and now it seemed like her mother was fading away too. It was more than she could take. Losing her father had been a terrible blow, but somehow she and her siblings had managed to get through the terrible ordeal simply because Katara had been there and they still had each other. If they lost Katara now, Kya didn't know what they would all do.
That night, as Katara went to bed, she decided that the following morning she'd try waterbending again. As she crawled into her bed and gazed over at the empty place beside her a strange sort of loneliness crept inside of her but it was quelled by the thought of spending the day with her family tomorrow. If she remembered corrected, Gyatso had promised his children and the whole family that he would take them on a picnic. As she slowly drifted to sleep, the waterbender vaguely wondered how her children and grandchildren would react if she snuck off again to attempt to waterbend. She never figured out because she never got the chance. When she awoke, she was no longer in the Southern Air Temple, but in a beautiful garden, surrounded by family and friends, from Toph to her mother, and the one person she'd waited patiently to be reunited with. Aang.
That night, when several little airbenders awoke to the sound of crying, they were surprised to discover their parents up, along with their aunt, uncle, and cousins. It was a late spring night and a full moon was shining like a diamond in the star studded sky and the three little airbenders couldn't figure out why everyone was so upset. While Pema slowly explained to her children what had happened overnight, their father and his siblings stood together, wiping the tears that trailed down their faces. After some time, Tenzin directed his children's' attention to the sky. Somewhere in the heavens, a new star had formed and it was glowing with such intensity that the residents of the Southern Air Temple knew that no matter what, Aang and Katara were always watching over them.
If there was an award for being the most repetitive person on the planet, I'd probably win it since I can't seem to find enough ways to thank everyone who read and reviewed my stories. So I guess I'll say what i always say: Thank you all so much. You're all amazing :)
~ Cassidy Alice
