They had gone to bed late that night. Having arrived in the evening, they insisted on spending whatever they could salvage out of the rest of the day.
Katara had insisted they all sleep communally, like old times. Hakoda and Chit Sang each took spare sleeping bags while Suki, suspiciously, took Sokka's. Hakoda smiled. Only his son could find love at such a precarious time. Everyone else lined themselves up around the dying campfire at a gracious distance. It was a warm night. Even the Avatar refused any blankets, opting instead to lie down on his bison's leg as he usually did. The father did not miss how Katara placed her sleeping area close to Aang's, and how they smiled at each other before nodding off. Only his children.
Sleep didn't take long to claim the chief, either. It was a wildshot from the typical prison mattresses they were allotted. The dying heat of the campfire, as well as the cool breeze and calming noises from the canyon meters from him quickly put to sleep any residual insomnia. The air temple seemed to have that serene affect on everyone.
Though his sleep was undisturbed for a while, his memories haunted him. He was a battle-hardened man, and thus subject to a lot of trauma. Not even his imprisonment had been able to break him. As he tossed and turned, his nightmares depicted many of his horrifying experiences. His first kill, the death of his wife, the death of one of his warriors... the list went on so far he could not even recall them all when he woke up. The temple's ledge obscured his view of the moon, making it impossible to tell the time of night. It didn't matter anyway, because it was evident through his erratic heartbeats and heavy breathing that sleep would elude him for another little while.
The presence of others he felt safe around always seemed to help. Taking a look at the tranquil faces of those who slept around him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though he hadn't gotten to know half of these people very well, it was still comforting, though the crown prince of the Fire Nation's presence felt odd to him. He wondered if it felt even worse to the sole airbender of the group, knowing how much it had already affected his daughter, the last waterbender of her tribe, to have a former enemy and the descendent Sozin on the team.
He moved his gaze on to his children. He felt better knowing they were at least sleeping well. Sokka slept outside of the sleeping bag, an arm lovingly draped around his girlfriend from behind.
Then he looked at Katara, who wore a sweet smile in her slumber. It was reminded him of a time before Kya had been brutally ripped from their lives by the enemy. After that, her peaceful smiles and easygoing nature had gone out the window. It was nice to know she was back in some form, but he knew the death of her mother would haunt her and Sokka for life. He looked up to where Aang had gone to sleep, but found him to be strangely absent. His staff lay discarded near Katara. Maybe Hakoda wasn't the only one with sleep troubles. For someone as traumatised as Aang, it made sense. Despite not knowing the boy very well, Hakoda's heartrate jumped to obscene levels as his eyes widened and he looked around suddenly, looking for any hint of the autumn colours the boy generally wore.
Nothing.
Well, not really nothing. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a moving glimpse of orange and yellow, standing out in the shadows. He watched as a person he eventually identified as Aang sit down on a ledge, where the moon shone down on him. He sat slouched and lazily, no indication of happiness whatsoever. Something was bothering him, and it was bothering Hakoda. He finally stood up from his sleeping bag, and began making the hike up to the airbender's position. It was quite difficult, as a nonbender to navigate the corridors and ledges. Airbenders had no use for stairs, which meant Hakoda had to use whatever he could of his upper body strength.
He didn't know what gave away his position, whether it be his heavy breathing or fumbling on the cobblestone, but the Avatar suddenly turned around upon detecting the person behind him. His cheeks were shining in the moonlight, tears had obviously once flown. Though he made some attempt to cover them up, they were unsuccessful. Hakoda didn't mind though. He was not one to judge, given his own reaction after the death of his wife and multiple others he once knew. He didn't say anything about it, instead opting to sit down next to the boy quietly. Not a word was uttered, and the older man pretended not to notice the vast depths of the canyon beneath his feet.
He placed his faith in the airbender next to him as he relaxed into an otherwise nerve wracking position above the cliffs.
"I didn't mean to wake you" Aang's soft voice spoke finally. It was hoarse, typical after bouts of crying.
"I don't think you did" Hakoda replied. The difference in their voices made evident the Avatar's youth to the older man. The fact that they were placing the world's hands in someone so young felt so wrong, and yet they had no other option. Hakoda felt guilty that he had ever relied on the boy to save the world. "Did I?"
"No, no you didn't." They were silent for a while, and Hakoda wondered if he should continue. There was nothing incredibly awkward about not speaking, but in that moment, Hakoda felt the need to do something about his obviously sour mood. "I've been up for a while. Actually, I haven't slept yet" he admitted sheepishly.
He could relate to that. "What kept you up?" He could explain why he himself was awake, what had broken his sleep, but what he was just no realising was that the Avatar in front of him was still a child, someone who could barely be considered a teenager. Though he knew he would be faced with killing the Fire Lord soon, Hakoda felt like delaying the boy's loss of innocence as long as he could. It was at this point his fatherly instincts started kicking in. His children had told him how they had accepted Aang as family, anyway. He would welcome the Avatar with open arms.
"Well," he began, "we're in a desolated air temple in the middle of a war and the Fire Lord's son is camping out with us."
"Oh." So that was the problem. They were staying in one of his previous homes... now empty and covered in the evidence of his nation's death.
"Oh" the airbender next to him let out an almost-laugh. It sounded sarcastic.
"Sorry" Hakoda began, "I didn't mean to-"
"No" Aang interrupted. "I know you didn't. I'm sorry. It really is... a lot."
"It is" Hakoda agreed. "Are you okay?" Hakoda prodded further.
"No" came his quick reply. Aang grimaced at his own honesty. There was yet another brief pause, but Hakoda didn't even think once of speaking this time. He didn't want for there to be any expectation to talk. They had both been through enough. "Just being here is... it brings back some bad memories. Ones I shouldn't even remember."
"I know what you mean."
"You do?" Aang asked, a twinge of hope evident in his voice.
Hakoda's breath hitched. He had vowed to himself not to speak of it... "I do. Things I have experienced, in war." He went quiet for a moment. "They all come back to me in my sleep."
"Like what?" Aang's small voice pondered.
"It would be too disturbing for you to hear. First kills, deaths..."
"I get it" Aang said. "I shouldn't but I do" he grimaced. "Airbenders thought all life to be sacred. Killing was strictly off limits. I shouldn't get it, but I do" he repeated.
"You've... killed?" Hakoda's heart sunk. If the Avatar, one of the youngest of their group had killed, what did that mean for his children? Had they been forced into taking a life also? Were they okay?
"It sounds silly."
Since when was killing silly? "Hit me" he said, unconvinced.
"I killed a buzzard-wasp." He teared up, remembering what had caused him such rage in that moment. And thinking to the future... would he end up killing the Fire Lord? He wiped the tears from his eyes as Hakoda placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, startled by the gesture.
"You think it's silly?"
"Well, compared to yours... I just thought-"
"No, Aang" it was the first time he had used his actual name, afraid of disrespecting the Avatar. His worries were clearly baseless. "Your culture was very different to mine." Hakoda felt incredibly guilty talking about his culture in the past tense while his lived on... "These experiences are okay."
"It just feels so odd, sitting here in this temple and clinging on to a culture that died ninety-nine years, eleven months and two weeks ago" he admitted. "A couple more and we will have passed the century mark."
"You've been counting" Hakoda deadpanned, feeling yet another surge of guilt and pain on behalf of the boy next to him.
"What else is there to do to pass the time," he said, "sitting in this derelict temple. My own sister and mother once walked these halls."
The sinking feeling only grew deeper as he went on and on about his people... he imagined just being here in this temple, using it this way for earthbending and particularly firebending training, must be very difficult for him to get through the day. And nights weren't much better, either. Talking about his family gave the chief an added dimension... It was difficult to imagine the amount of pent up pain within the boy. He stopped him mid rant to throw his arms around Aang. He had heard enough. Any questions about 'respecting the Avatar' went out the window. All Hakoda saw was a grieving boy who needed a little help to get him through.
"What-?"
"Aang, I know my children have already told you this," Hakoda began, "but now I'm saying it too. You're our family, Aang. I meant what I said back at the invasion. We trust you to get us through this. You'll always have a home in the Southern Water Tribe."
Aang pulled away from his hug. "I don't even know what to..." he avoided eye contact with the man. He was trying really hard now not to cry again.
"It's okay" Hakoda told him. "I just thought, since you don't have your own..." he was afraid to finish that sentence.
"Since I don't have my own home" Aang concluded for him.
"Yeah." It was difficult to believe that the happy, easygoing and charming boy he had talked with on and off earlier that night had this much grief welled up within him. To not have a home was unthinkable. "And Sokka and Katara already think highly of you. Despite earlier misunderstandings..."
Aang grimaced, but overall he was grateful to hear that. "Yeah, Katara's great."
Hakoda smirked. "Not Sokka, huh?"
He perked up, flushed. "I- well-" He refused to meet Hakoda's gaze and instead started down into the comforting void of the canyon.
"Relax" Hakoda laughed quietly. "It's okay. Sokka spoke very highly of you... So I don't really have much reason to complain."
"You don't?" he asked, looking up finally.
"Well, after this conversation I guess I don't have much to worry about."
"Right."
"And Katara would kill me if I tried to have any... input in her love life anyway."
"That's true" Aang chuckled.
"Well, I got you laughing. I guess that's job done. I think I can head back to sleep now. Want to head back to camp?" Hakoda asked.
"... No" Aang decided. "I still don't think I'll sleep tonight. That's okay, though. It happens sometimes" he sighed. "Thanks for the talk, Hakoda."
Hakoda was reluctant to leave the kid out here alone, but he had no real right to boss him around. Especially with him being the Avatar. "Alright" he resigned. "Remember what I said, Aang. Good night."
"I will. Bye, Hakoda."
Walking back to the camp, Hakoda finally gave in to the funny feeling that had been bugging him throughout the conversation. He was half-determined to be the father Aang would never again have, not that he wished to replace his own. But the fact he had been comforting the Avatar only a few minutes ago was absurd to him. A year ago, the Avatar didn't exist. Their dynamic might always be like that, given his obvious sprouting relationship with Katara. Though his heart was torn between being respectful to the Avatar, and being a good father, he was still determined to show Aang that he welcomed him into the family, to treat him as Aang. It was the least he deserved.