A/N This is my first serious attempt at writing Fanfiction, so please don't grill me. I finished the show recently and wondered what would have happened if, in the avatar state, Aang had killed Ozai. This chapter is more a proof of concept than anything else.

Every fiber of Aang's body ached. Ozai's mangled corpse filled his vision before he fell to the ground, unconscious. His sleep was dreamless.

~-~:~-~

He woke up to the comfortably familiar sensation of flying on Appa. His back was leaning up against the edge of the saddle. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that he was surrounded by the rest of Team Avatar. Maybe the fight had just been a dream, and he could still take away the Firelord's bending! Bleary eyed, he finally focused on the faces of everyone around him. Sokka, Toph, Suki, Zuko, and Katara all turned to look at him, each one of their expressions a different severity of grim. Aang reached up to rub his eyes and the sheer exhaustion dragging his arms back down made the truth abundantly clear. Aang had killed the Phoenix King.

Few words were said as they made the journey back to the Fire Nation Royal Palace. Sokka, Suki, and Toph were all proud of Aang for beating Ozai. Zuko was more reserved, and simply congratulated Aang for fulfilling his destiny. Katara consoled Aang, saying that it was inevitable, that Ozai was crazy and he had to go down, that there was only ever going to be one outcome to this fight. Aang wanted to spring out of her comforting embrace and shout at her, make her understand that, "There was a way! The Lion-Turtle showed me how! I was just too weak to use it!" Instead, Aang remained silent, and kept his biting words to himself.

Katara and the rest of the Gaang may have tricked themselves into believing the notion that murder was inevitable and justified, but Aang knew better, he knew that none of them had actually been prepared to see him become a killer. Aang looked ahead, the Palace was growing bigger on the horizon.

As they dismounted, Aang swayed dangerously and before he could fall, Katara slung his arm around her shoulder and snaked her arm around his back. Aang, graciously accepted her assistance at first, momentarily forgetting his worries in Katara's arms. Then he looked back up at the grand entrance of the Royal Palace and it all came rushing back.

"Katara, you really..." Aang trailed off, their gazes locked and Aang lost himself in her cerulean orbs, staggered by the amount of love he saw swimming under the surface. He almost forgot what he had been about to say until Katara's question brought him back on track.

"Really what, Aang?" Katara's voice was empathetic and understanding in that way only her's was. Aang tore his eyes away from hers.

"You really don't need to be helping me. I can walk fine on my own." Aang internally winced at how cold his words had come out. He didn't mean to upset Katara, but how could he explain to her that he didn't deserve her care anymore? She was too good for a killer.

If Aang had been looking at her then, he would have seen her expression morph into confusion, hurt, and finally, acceptance. Katara moved her shoulder just enough to let Aang's arm fall limply to his side, "If you think you can handle it." She turned around to catch up with Sokka, who was currently off trying to find their father amongst the surviving warriors.

Aang teetered dangerously as he walked faster toward the palace. He needed to get away from her.

As Aang walked down the dim hallway, he could hear the people cheering for Zuko.

"Please!" Zuko's voice rang out. "The real hero... is the Avatar." Aang walked into the light of the courtyard. The cheering grew doubly loud. His lips grew taught, he didn't deserve this. These people knew that he was a killer, but they cheered anyway. This was so messed up.

"Today, this war is finally over!" Zuko proclaimed over the cheers. Once the clapping and whistling had died down to a reasonable level, he continued. "I promised my uncle I would restore the honor of the Fire Nation, and I will. The road ahead of us is challenging, a hundred years of fighting has left the world scarred, and divided. But with the Avatar's help," Zuko turned to face Aang, a subtle mixture of pride and sympathy gracing his regal features, "we can get it back on the right path. And begin a new era of love and peace."

Aang wanted to argue, to show these friends, allies, and warriors how wrong they were. How could Zuko talk about love and peace for the future when Aang had ended the war with hatred and violence?

The crown was placed on Zuko's head. Aang wanted to feel proud of his friend for coming so far, for becoming the positive influence that the Fire Nation so desperately needed. He felt shame.

Aang skipped dinner, leaving his friends in favor of rest. This was, of course, only half-true, as Aang could have easily kept himself awake for the duration of the meal, but he simply had no appetite, not after seeing the pieces, pieces! of Ozai's corpse. He couldn't bear to face the others right now. Especially not when he needed to regain his energy for the trip to Ba Sing Se tomorrow. Zuko had insisted that at the very least Aang allow one of the servants to escort him to his quarters. Aang nodded numbly.

~-~:~-~

The moment his head hit the far too squishy, "royal," pillow, Aang's consciousness slipped away. As the emptiness faded, he became cognizant of a cool floor and a gentle breeze. He opened his eyes and was greeted to the sight of the Southern Air Temple's balcony. A few paces ahead of Aang, stood Zuko. Though Zuko's back was to him, Aang could tell both of the Firelord's hands clutched the railing. Aang looked around, the temple looked ancient, more ancient than Aang ever remembered it looking. The sound of Zuko's sigh was heavy, and Aang's eyes focused once more on his friend. Knowing how worked up Zuko could get, Aang tentatively began approaching him. Zuko turned on Aang, his face twisted with rage, raising an accusing finger.

"He's dead! There's nothing even left to bury!" Aang stopped short, the despair that had been clawing at his insides for the whole day threatened to overtake him.

Aang's voice comes out strained. "It's not like you were ever against that plan! You told me I had to kill him!"

"I said kill, not obliterate!" Zuko half-yelled, crossing his arms. "There was no honor in his death."

Monk Gyatso materialized in the air next to Zuko. His head hung low, and when he spoke, his voice came out exhausted and miserable. "You knew, Aang. You knew that all life is sacred. But when the moment came, when we needed you..." He looked up at Aang. The disappointment ingrained in his expression: in the slight way his lips tilted down, in the somber, heavy look in his eyes. A look saved expressly for disciplining Aang after an excessively cruel prank or callous remark. Gyatso took a step closer, "...when I needed you to find a peaceful solution... you failed. The Air Nomads counted on you to maintain our way of life, and you failed."

Aang could feel his lips trembling. His mentor, the closest thing he ever had to father... just called him a disgrace. And... he agreed. His eyes frantically darted between Zuko and Gyatso, the former scowling ferociously. His voice came out broken, "I had no choice. I had to..."

Katara materialized next to Gyatso. Her countenance was identical to the one she bore after Aang had gotten overzealous with Jeong Jeong's teaching and burned her. The pressure in Aang's chest was unbearable upon seeing her wear that expression again. He would do anything to ease her pain. Katara shook her head disbelievingly. "There's always a choice Aang. They're right, you failed. You failed the Air Nomads, you failed the world...you failed me."

The temple crumbled into blackness. Simple nothingness.

~-~:~-~

Aang woke up shivering. How long had he been asleep? He swung his legs over the edge of his cushy bed and plopped his bare feet on the cool porcelain floor. With a grunt, he pushed himself up with his arms, and only swayed slightly when he stood up unaided. He strode over to the balcony, gently opened the intricately carved door, and walked out into the night. As he stepped past the door-frame, he felt a rush of blissful warm air that felt wonderful after the cold terror of that nightmare. The moon was still emblazoned in the starry night sky, and lightly dusted the landscape with its pale light.

Aang walked to the railing and gripped it lightly, simply looking off into the darkness. In his few years of life, he already accomplished more than any other Avatar had at his age. But when he needed to end things peacefully, when he needed to prove that it could be done, he had failed. The Lion Turtle had given him an out, and even still he couldn't defeat Ozai without taking his life.

Aang's gaze drifted from the horizon up to the starry heavens. It made him feel so small, so insignificant, looking up at the cosmos like this. Realizing how dry his mouth had suddenly become, he gulped, and wet his lips. In the distance, the distinct boom of firebending quietly assaulted Aang's ears. His grip on the rail tightened. Who on earth would be firebending at this hour? He heard the unmistakable sound of Katara yelling in the distance. The sort of yell reserved for when she was waterbending. His grip on the rail went slack and he found himself leaping over it entirely. Katara was in trouble!