Takes Place During The Awakening.

Dedicated to my kiddos. Love you always!

If you are to be a positive influence on the world, you need to forgive yourself.

-Guru Pathik, The Guru

Hakoda

Sun goes down and moon comes up.

Moon goes down and sun comes up.

Things come and go, all things are so,

But my love for you, my love for you will always stay.

He thought he'd been imagining the song these past few weeks, hearing its echo softly at night, the words working their way into his dreams.

And then he'd see her, the only place he ever could anymore. Kya. Kneeling at the children's bedsides, sometimes humming, sometimes singing the words her own mother had once sung to her. Singing them safely to their dreams.

My love will always stay.

'Stay,' he would echo — would plead — as her song, and the dream, began to fade.

Stay.

But his eyes would open.

And he would be alone.

Again.

/ / /

Hakoda had to admit it. Things were looking up. Over the past few weeks, they'd successfully commandeered an enemy ship, made it through a barricade, and were well on their way west through the Earth Kingdom toward the Fire Nation. More importantly — though still unconscious — Aang was healing, and with him, Katara. As the boy recovered, so too did the light return to her eyes.

He watched the transformation with some trepidation. He couldn't help it. It was beautiful. It was heart-wrenching.

It was also terrifying, because he knew what that meant. The young Avatar would wake soon, and once that happened, it was only a matter of time.

His kids would be leaving.

And he would… what?

He'd watched Sokka fly away without him not so long ago. Was this how the boy had felt when Hakoda had done the leaving all those years before? It left a bitter taste, this welling of both pride and helplessness, that lingered still.

"I'm going to go with them when the time comes," he'd told Bato only a few days before.

"Of course you are," his friend had returned, promising to do whatever was needed in his stead. Simple as that.

Only he knew it wasn't. Not anymore. In the end, his staying or going wasn't up to him. If the Fire Nation didn't kill him soon, the anxiety would first. Most evenings he had trouble falling asleep, and an even harder time staying that way.

So on the night Aang woke up, Hakoda wasn't surprised that the lullaby broke off his troubled dreams once again, though he was a bit confused when it wasn't her voice. He was even more so when the song didn't stop with his waking.

…

Things come and go, all things are so,

But my love for you, my love for you will always stay.

My love will always stay.

Though all else comes and goes away,

Still my love for you will always stay.

He followed the sound, soft but affecting, out onto the deck, where he found the young Avatar laying on his bison's head, gaze skyward, one hand in a fist across his heart, the other running through the creature's shaggy mane while he sang.

Storm winds lash and storm winds blow.

Children laugh and children grow.

Storms don't last, we too shall pass,

But my love for you, my love for you will never end,

My love will never end.

Though all else fades, you can depend

On my love for you, my love for you will never end.

Hakoda didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't this. He felt both moved and embarrassed at the sight of this strangely intimate moment, like he'd walked in on something sacred. He tried to retreat more quietly than he'd come, but the damage had been done.

With a rush of wind, the boy's robe rippled in a current of his own making, and suddenly he was sitting, looking at him.

Airbender.

It was only thought Hakoda could form at first.

Though he'd heard about many of the Avatar's feats and abilities, this was the first bit of airbending Hakoda had yet seen. A simple movement, yes, but full of such grace. Smooth as a swell on a gentle sea, effortless as a sail in a summer's breeze.

"Chief Hakoda," the Avatar's own voice broke both the silence and the moment. Aang hopped lightly down, slipped something into his pocket, and inclined his head, mortal once more. "Excuse me, I thought I was being quiet… I hope I didn't wake you."

The boy blinked a few times before raising his eyes, and Hakoda did his best not to notice the redness around them or the way they shimmered wetly in the starlight. "Not at all," he said, infusing as much encouragement as he could into his voice. "I'm usually up about this time anyway. Trouble sleeping?"

The boy smiled a half-smile and shifted his gaze back downward. "You could say that. I just… I couldn't sleep in there. So dark and closed off. Like a — " He stopped, his arms crossing suddenly, as if instinctually, protecting himself in a lonely embrace.

Hakoda thought he knew the word Aang meant. It made him want to hug the boy himself. He stepped up to the bison instead, petting the gentle beast and giving the boy a moment. "Well, I don't blame you for making your way out here. That's what I do most nights. A walk around the deck under the stars is calming. But I imagine spending time with your friend here is even better."

"It is," Aang said, and Hakoda heard the effort behind the cheerful tone. "I sleep on Appa most nights anyway. There's nothing more comfortable than a sky bison."

"I think I could believe that," Hakoda laughed. "Much more comfortable than a ship bunk anyway, Fire Nation or Water Tribe."

Aang laughed and joined him at Appa's side, eyes brightened somewhat. "Yeah, you might have to put Sokka on that one. If anyone can come up with a better model, it'd be him."

"Oh, yeah?" Hakoda asked, curious.

"Definitely. Did he tell you he helped with the design of a hot air balloon?"

"He did. At length."

The boy laughed again, less reserved now, and clearer. "That sounds about right."

Aang's demeanor improved, dignity undamaged, and overall awkwardness avoided, Hakoda considered the interchange a success and reckoned that now was as good a time as any to excuse himself and try to get some more sleep before the morning came. In fact, he'd all but turned to go when the words he'd tried to bury came unbidden.

"The song," he said, and turned back to the boy, still standing at his bison's side. "Where did you —? I mean… was that an air nomad lullaby as well?"

Aang looked up, as startled at the question as Hakoda had been in asking it. "I don't know," he said. "I don't think so. I didn't even know it was a lullaby."

"Oh," Hakoda said, surprised. "Did Sokka or Katara ever…?"

"No."

"Then when did you — ?" Hakoda stopped short at the sight of Aang's face. Part of him wanted to take back the question and end the conversation there, to spare the boy from whatever pain the subject seemed to have caused. But another part sensed that this was necessary. That taking the time to listen was, perhaps, the most important thing he could do right now.

Aang bit his lip, one hand tightening on a lock of Appa's fur. "Did they tell you? About me, I mean… about what happened. I don't know if you know."

"Tell me what?"

The boy closed his eyes before speaking. "I… sort of… " He stopped again, took a steadying breath. "I died."

"Oh," Hakoda said. What could a person say to that? "Yeah."

"Yeah," Aang echoed, biting his lip again, his eyes still shut, one hand still clamped in his bison's fur, the other in a restless fist, clenching and unclenching at his side. "I… saw people, when I was… wherever I was. People I've lost. People I will lose if I fail again. People whose names and faces I don't know at all, but whose fates are still somehow tied to me. All of them dependent on me." He took a breath, let it out, and the crease between his eyes lessened somewhat. "But then — every now and then — a voice would echo through somehow. Singing that song. Drowning everything else out."

"Who was it?"

Aang opened his eyes. "Before I came back for Sokka, I went to meet a guru to help me master the Avatar State."

Hakoda nodded. "I remember."

"It wasn't exactly… successful…" Aang went on, shifting his gaze downward, "but there was one thing. One thing I've been sort of hanging onto. He said that my people's love for me has not left this world. That its energy still lives inside me and is reborn around me." He smiled just a bit then and looked back up at Hakoda, tearful but proud, somehow. Unashamed. "I think it was them."

Hakoda felt tears welling up in his own eyes. He had another idea whose voice Aang had been hearing, but when he smiled and said, "I think you might be right," he meant it all the same. "I don't know the people you lost, and though I've had grief of my own, I can barely begin to imagine what that's been like for you. Those you lost can never be replaced, but I hope you know you're not alone, and that — even though you and I haven't had a chance to get to know each other yet — you're welcome in our family. Sokka and Katara are obviously devoted to you. That feisty little earthbender, too. You've all had to depend on one another. But I want you to know you can depend on me, too. You don't have to do this alone."

Aang's expression had lightened as Hakoda spoke, understanding and accepting — hopefully — his reception and pledge of support. All until that last line. The boy's face didn't harden exactly, but his eyes steeled and he wiped the tears from them.

"You and your children have done so much for me already," Aang said. "I can't begin to thank you or ever repay you — "

"— we would never expect or want you to," Hakoda cut in, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I know, but —" he looked down again and frowned. "It isn't fair. Your kids have gone through so much."

"So have you."

"But they shouldn't have to."

"Neither should you."

"But I do have to!" Aang turned away, his eyes on the sky. "I'm the Avatar. So I don't have a choice. But they do. Or at least they should."

"Maybe," Hakoda conceded. "But I know what they'd choose, and so do you."

"Well maybe they shouldn't," Aang stiffened. "Do you know what I did when we first met Bato at the abbey? I took the map that should have led them to you. I tried to keep them from you."

"The way I heard it, you also returned the map. Of your own accord."

"It doesn't change the fact that I did it."

"No, but they forgave you. And for what it's worth, I do too."

"I know, but — I really don't deserve — I'm so sorry."

"I know."

"And I know they chose to stay with me that day, in the end. But maybe they shouldn't have. They shouldn't have to have followed me through canyons and swamps and deserts. They shouldn't have to fall asleep worrying what we're going to eat, or where we need to go next, or if some fire nation scout will find us in the middle of the night. And they definitely shouldn't have to put up with some kid who can't even look after himself, let alone anyone else."

"What happened in Ba Sing Se was not your fault."

"Maybe not. But it still happened. And because they're with me, they run the risk of something happening to them, too. And they've both lost too much already. Katara still has trouble dealing with what happened to her mother. And Sokka's haunted by Yue."

"Yue?"

Aang looked up, surprised. "He hasn't told you about her?"

"The Earth Kingdom warrior?"

"No," Aang shook his head, turning back the face Hakoda. "She was the princess of the Northern Water Tribe."

"Was?"

"I think maybe it'd be better if you talked about it to Sokka," he said carefully. "Actually, it'd probably be good if you did. Sokka doesn't… talk about things sometimes. He likes to put on a good show, like everything is fine, so that everything will be fine for everyone else, but he keeps some things bottled up. He wants to be strong for the rest of us."

Hakoda sighed. "I know what you mean. And I will talk to him. But… I don't think he's been the only one acting strong for the others."

Aang shrugged his shoulders, looking out toward the sea. "I don't act strong. I act stupid. Chasing penguins and riding koi fish and mail chutes or any other distraction I can find. I've been childish."

"Well, you're only —"

"— I know what you're going to say. But it doesn't matter. I don't have that luxury. But I did it anyway." He paused for a moment. "I think — maybe — part of me hoped that if I wasn't all that serious that things couldn't really be that serious. Or that if I acted like a child that I might somehow avoid — because death doesn't come for the young — or it shouldn't… but of course that's not true. Children die every day. Pretending won't protect me from death. It's been chasing me all this time. It almost had me a few times. And then it did."

Aang took a breath, squared his shoulders. "I have a habit of running from things, but I think maybe it's time I stop. Death is still be coming for me, but maybe it's time I do something about it. Maybe it's I stop running. Chase it for a change."

There were so many things Hakoda wished he could say, but what do you say to someone who has seen so much? The words of his son still echoed hauntingly in his mind.

No one's ever safe. Not really. It's a story we tell ourselves, to our children.

And his kids were right. Aang was no longer a child. Not really.

If he was, Hakoda would have already wrapped him up in a protective embrace, sung the lullaby himself, and told him everything would be alright.

But Aang wasn't. And Hakoda couldn't. Empty words weren't going to help the young man before him.

"I can't tell you what the right course of action is," he finally said, "but I hope you know we'll be with you. All the way. Whatever you choose."

Aang didn't say anything to that, but he nodded, gaze still on the restless sea.

Hakoda left him that way, wondering what more he could have said, wondering if the right words even existed. How do you help someone forgive themself when you haven't figured it out yourself?

He laid back down in his bunk and closed his eyes.

Kya was there again, smiling at him, looking for all the world alive and happy present, but for the blood blooming across her front.

My love will always stay, she sang.

Stay.

But she couldn't. So she didn't.

And he was alone.

Again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :) I'm sorry it's taken so long. I wish I could say that the next chapters will come out sooner, though I hope that will be the case.

Oh, and if you're interested, I made a quick youtube video of the lullaby.

watch?v=wmL90kotQI8

If it's easier, you can find it on my channel. I just started one on there with the same name as on here: mostlybritts.

Again, thanks so much for reading! Your reviews help me keep going! :)

/

Guest: Again, I'm really sorry I'm not good at updating with regularity but very flattered that you enjoy it!

lalaandiki: Thanks! I thought Sokka and Toph's were the best, too. I think it was therapeutic for them. But I imagine Katara, while a bit better, is still holding in so much, unwilling to express it even to herself.

RMS10: Thank you! I thought about a haiku, but I'm not as good at them and I got a kick out of the idea of Sokka writing some questionably-appropriate limericks.

marjojo02: Thank you so much! I hoped it was a good way to show the passing of time, as well as give some more intimate snippets of their uncertainties.

Ashley Barbosa: Thank you so much again! I'm also excited Aang is awake. He's my favorite!

chloe.a. 5: Thank you! I thought it was funny and hopefully in character, but I'll admit I was a little scared of posting it. I didn't know if people would think it was too much.

phieillydinyia: Thanks! It's going to continue with missing moments throughout the rest of season three and possibly beyond. At least, that's the goal.