Takes Place During The Guru/ Crossroads of Destiny

Disclaimer: No ownage of things here. Just love.

The thought chakra is located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachment. Meditate on what attaches you to this world. Now, let all of those attachments go. Let them flow down the river, forgotten.

- The Guru

Sokka

I think I first realized it spending time with Dad again.

It had been amazing, being back with him. Maybe amazing wasn't the right word. Relieving? No. But I'd been able to breathe again. It had just felt... right. Like something that had gone wrong inside me untwisted. Maybe amazing was the right word.

I was with my Dad. I'd spent so many nights since he'd left lying awake, just wishing for him to be there. I'd tried my best to be the protector for our family, for our village. Not that I'd done it well. But I had tried all the same, and the weight was heavy. I was ready for him to be back — and not just because I missed him — but because I wanted it to stop. I didn't want to be the leader any more. Leading meant I was the last line of defense. Leading meant showing no fear. It meant not showing a lot of things.

And I felt... false. Because whatever I said and did, I was just as scared as the rest of them. Maybe even more so. Because I knew their defender was a fake. The village didn't need me. It needed a man, one who was as brave on the inside as the out. It needed Dad.

And here he was. But it wasn't what I thought it would be. He wasn't who I thought he would be.

Not that he had changed. Sure, there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes. And maybe his clothes had faded a bit and fell a little looser around the middle. But he was the same height. I — well — I was not. When he looked at me, we were almost on the same level. He treated me as such.

And I'd never felt so proud, getting to see him in this new way. But I know now that I'll never be able to go back. To that height. To those childhood days. To that security.

To that illusion.

I guess that's what everyone learns at one point or another. Maybe it took me longer than most. Maybe because Dad had been gone, my view of him hadn't grown with me. In my heart, I'd still held him in that amber glow, in that almost spiritual larger-than-life way we all do as kids.

We all do... don't we?

Well, I had. But now I had to let it go and accept my new reality.

There was no stopping this. There was no stepping down or giving up. No other last line of defense. Not for me, anyway. There never had been, really. People try. Dad had tried, but he'd had to leave. Mom had tried.

Strangely, though, the realization was also... kind of a relief. Like I'd known all along, but was only now allowing myself to accept it. And now that I had, I could do something about it. I could be brave in actuality rather than pretense, the way I had when I thought that bravery meant fearlessness.

It meant when Aang flew back down that day, I understood where I needed to be.

Dad did, too. I saw him appraise the Avatar, looking like he wanted to do more, but there was no time. And before I was ready, I was wrapped in a firm hug.

"I am — so — proud of you."

And we were off.

I watched him grow smaller and smaller on the deck of the ship as we rose into the sky, just like he had that day nearly three years ago. But I was doing the leaving this time. Was this what he had felt like, leaving Katara and me? I bit my tongue and blinked my eyes. He had his mission. And I had mine.

I turned away and tried to settle myself more securely in the crook of Appa's neck. Aang was pushing the bison faster than ever before, his knuckles white on the reins.

I didn't even want to ask. Not yet. Not after seeing that look in his eyes. After spending months with the airbender, I'd come to appreciate his calming presence. He was — for the most part — a happy kid, guileless and without pretense. It was refreshing.

It was also annoying.

Because how could he be so... okay? After what he'd been though? It was galling. And more than a little bit inspiring.

Which was also annoying.

Not that I hadn't seen other sides of him. After all, we'd run the gamut of emotions together on our travels. I'd seen his normally docile gray eyes tinged with grief, horror, even terrifying fury. But what was in them today I'd only seen once before, when General Fong and his soldiers tried to push him into the Avatar State. When they'd trapped my sister. Desperation.

"What happened?" I finally asked.

"Katara's been captured," Aang said stonily, staring straight ahead.

"Is she okay?"

"No. Maybe? I mean, I think so." His voice was unusually tight. "At least she was. I left as soon as I saw—"

"You saw what? Her? How?"

Aang frowned. "I was sort of above the world — or beyond it — in the cosmos..." he paused, seeming to search for better words.

"Avatar magic," I cut in. "Got it. Fine. So what did you see?"

"She was in chains."

"Was anyone with her?"

"I don't know. It was sort of blurred out around the edges, like all I could see was her."

"Where was she?"

"I don't know."

"So what do you know?!"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

I had to grip Appa's fur as a ball of wind emanated from him.

Aang closed his eyes, breathed out and the air stilled again. "I know she's in trouble."

I breathed out as well. "It'll be alright," I said, not sure if I was speaking to him, or to myself.

/ / /

We flew through the night. Well, Aang did. He said he wasn't tired, that he wanted to stay up with Appa. That might have been the case. Or he might have wanted to be alone with his thoughts. I didn't press him. I had thoughts of my own.

His story was troubling me. I couldn't understand it. How could he see her, but not her circumstances? Had he been in the Avatar state? And the vision- was it thrust upon him somehow, or had he been in control? And if so, why was it so restricted? Were there limits to the ability, or did he simply lack the skill?

All I could see was her.

The words echoed in my head. And the look on his face when he'd said them. I couldn't quite pin it down. Fear? Sure. Worry? Definitely. But there was something else there, too. Guilt maybe? I couldn't see how. It wasn't his fault the way things went down after we left. Or was there something he wasn't telling me?

Then again, maybe it was just another one of those things he felt compelled to blame himself for. The poor kid kid had the worst guilt complex.

But I wasn't getting anywhere. And one of us at least needed to be rested before we arrived tomorrow. I screwed my eyes shut and clamped down my thoughts. I would just have to try to coax more out of him in the morning.

/ / /

Aang did manage to stay awake. Somewhat. His eyes were open, but he wasn't fully there. At least, he didn't seem to be — not even blinking as I sat up and stretched.

"Hey, Aang?" I asked.

Nothing.

"Earth to Airbender," I said a bit louder, waving my hands in front of his face.

He blinked and shook his head.

Maybe he had been asleep. Can you sleep with your eyes open?

"Whoa, what is it, Sokka?"

"Whoa, yourself," I said, now that he was looking at me. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes a bit bloodshot. How long had he sat without blinking? "Here, take a drink," — I handed him my waterskin — "and eat something."

He eyed me warily as I began pulling jerky out of my pocket. "Sokka, you know I don't—"

"Calm down, just give me a minute," I said, finally taking out a peach and brushing all the dried jerky bits off. It was a little smushed. Aang looked at it dubiously.

"Eat," I repeated, putting it in his hands and taking the reins. "You need some calories. You look terrible."

"Thanks," Aang grumbled.

"You're welcome," I said, ignoring the sarcasm.

He brushed it off a bit more, but then settled back and took a bite.

"Good," I said. "Eat that, and then close your eyes."

"I don't need to sleep."

"I didn't say you did." I paused. "You do, but I know I can't make you. Still, at least try to rest your eyes a bit, okay? For me?"

Aang huffed.

"Fine. For Katara."

He sighed in frustration. But he also closed his eyes.

When he woke a few hours later, he glared at me like I'd betrayed him. But he looked better. He reached for reins and I let him take them.

"Look, I didn't make you sleep. I just didn't stop it."

"I know."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just feel guilty. How can I sleep when Katara is — ?" he sighed, deflating — "I don't even know..."

I nodded my head. "Trust me, I get it. I know it seems like we're doing nothing. But we're not. We're doing what we have to to get back to her. And we're not even that far off." I pointed ahead to a line on the horizon. The walls of Ba Sing Se.

Aang looked up and his face lightened a bit. That was better. I just needed to get him thinking more constructively.

"So... you were in a... cosmos thingy?"

"Something like that."

"Neat. That's just... neat."

"I guess."

"You guess? Well, to a mere mortal like myself, it sounds pretty impressive."

"Sure. I mean, it was, actually." Aang grinned. "Even by immortal standards."

"I bet. And... you could see people?"

"Well, I saw Katara."

"Sure, sure. But could you have seen others, do you think? If you'd taken the time?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I'm not even sure how I did it. Maybe because I was thinking about her."

"You were thinking about her?"

Aang reddened. "Well, I had to think about a lot of things, and a lot of people. It just happened to be her that I was thinking about at the time."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, that makes sense." I tried to put him at ease so we could get to the more important bit. "But do you think you could do it again?"

"No."

"Are you sure? I just mean — well — strategically speaking, this could be a game-changer."

"I don't think so."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know exactly. It's… complicated. But I think it's not just a matter of thinking of someone. I think it also has to do with having a connection with someone."

I let a barrage of questions die in my mouth and swallowed. "Okay, that makes sense. I think. So spying on Ozai is probably out."

"Probably," Aang laughed weakly.

"But... maybe you could use it to help us out now? Could you check back in on Katara? Maybe —"

"No."

"But what if you —"

"I've already tried!" Aang stared down at the reins in his hands before looking back up at me. "How could you not think I'd have already tried?"

A good question. "I'm sorry. Of course you would have. But you can't blame me for trying in my own way." What else could I ask? "So... you didn't see anything else, but did you maybe sense anything? About what kind of trouble Katara's in?"

"I don't know. In my vision, I just knew she needed help."

"It'd be nice if your Avatar powers could be just a little more specific from time to time."

A sudden rumble and plume of dust caught my attention below. "What is that?!"

My eyes widened as we got closer. It was Toph. Of course it was. Skiing across the earth like it was nothing. What couldn't that girl do?

"Need a ride?" I shouted.

Distracted, she lost her stride and crash-landed spectacularly. Aang and I both grimaced. That had to hurt.

"So how did it go with the guru?" She asked once we got going again. "Did you master the Avatar State?"

"Uh..." Aang trailed off, looking away.

That wasn't good. I hadn't thought to ask about it earlier. Truth be told, I hadn't even thought of it, not since finding out about my sister. "Aang... are you okay?"

"I'm great," he said, turning back, "It went great with the guru. I completely mastered the Avatar state." He tried to laugh convincingly and failed. "Yeah..."

So he hadn't. I should have known. He said he'd left as soon as he saw Katara.

I frowned. This really wasn't good. But, what was the alternative? Would I rather he'd ignored his vision? How long would it have taken him to finish? And what would I have done in his place? That one wasn't even a question. The exact same thing. So what was bothering me?

I didn't understand the Avatar state or the breadth of power that Aang could command. Only that, for all its enormity, it seemed to come with a lot of strings attached. But from what I'd heard, it sounded like — for one cosmic moment at least —with all the power in the world, and perhaps the ability to tap into untold realms of knowledge... all he had seen was Katara.

I looked at him again. We'd crossed into Ba Sing Se. Now that we were so close, his face had furrowed with focus again.

We'd been through so much, the three — now four — of us. But there was still a long way to go. A long way and steep, especially for him. So many things to do. And even though we were all there to help, I knew deep down that, in the end, it all hinged on him.

Because if there was a last line of defense, it was the Avatar.

So even though, because of him, we were about to save my baby sister, I still didn't know if I should be relieved or worried.

If all he could see was her.