Later that night, after Hakoda came home, Aang knew what he had to do. With his friends by his side, he knocked on the chief's door. They had contemplated going over to the station right after Aang had told them of his plan, but in the end decided to wait. It wasn't going to be long before the man arrived. After dinner, he had gone into his study to look over a case in which he had no desire to talk about.
His voice after the knock bade them to enter, which the trio obliged. The room was brightly lit with a large oak desk, a filing cabinet, and computer. Hakoda was leaning over a file on the wooden surface, but he closed it as the kids came in. His eyes were deep and weary, as if the images the file contained haunted him.
Aang understood that look; he himself had seen that same feeling in his own, from his memories of prostitution. It was one of degradation, a soul rendering phenomenon that occurred to those who were witnessing or have experienced the worlds more horrid deviations. He could only imagine how Hakoda would be when he had to case many of life's darker aspects.
Heart in his throat at what he was about to do, he cleared his throat to begin. "Mr. Rivers, I need a few words with you, sir."
Though obviously tired, the man smiled warmly, like a father would his child. It made Aang heartsick for his own dad. God, he hoped he was alright.
Hakoda said, "Come in, Aang. And what did I tell you about calling me sir?" he added teasingly, a sparkle appearing in his eyes.
He smiled, but Aang's heart wasn't really in it. The fear that clogged inside his chest made it a little hard to breathe. He was about to withdraw, to lie and say the Hakoda looked ready for rest, but then he felt the hands of his friends on his shoulders. Taking strength from the silent support, he walked over to the chief to begin the next step of his journey.
Hakoda asked, "How are you feeling?"
Shrugging he muttered, "I've been better, but there is something I need to tell you."
He must have realized how important this was and straightened up, eyes calculative. "Okay, I'm all ears."
"You know what happened to me, Hakoda," he said softly, looking down in shame as memories assaulted his mind. Coughing into his fist he forced the images away as best he could. This was not the time to backpedal. This was something that had to be done. For himself, for those who had died at the mistress's hands, and those who have been forced into such a debauchery life. It had to be put down.
He nodded, concern etching on his features. "I do."
Taking a deep breath, Aang met the man's eyes. "I know where to find the mistress's hideout."
Rising from the chair, Hakoda regarded the boy before him intently. "It's time," he stated, not even bothering to pose it as a question, but Aang nodded anyway, dread and anticipation converging in his mind. The man before him took a breath and nodded at the sketchbook in the boys hands. "I'm guessing evidence is in there?"
Hands tightening on the book, heart pounding at what he was about to do, Aang walked the last few feet and handed it over. "It's the very last page."
Hakoda paused to meet his gaze head on and Aang was surprised by the pride he saw. "This is a very brave thing you're doing, Aang," he said gently. "I'm sure your parents would be mighty proud."
Throat clogged, all he could do was nod. Hakoda had met Aang's mother before, that night when he had gotten home, and knew about his father possibly being trapped where Aang had been. This step was going to help them get the other prisoners out. The siblings closed in, Sokka gripping his shoulder and Katara hugging his side. Looking at them, he could see the smiles on their faces, but also sorrow in their eyes, like they wished he didn't have to go through with this and not have had the experience few people could escape from. But they were there, giving their support for what had to be done.
Hakoda went to the back page of the book and examined the drawing in silence. The urge to run from it was strong, which may seem stupid, but Aang knew he had to stay, no matter his fears. This had to be put to an end and if he had to, he would give whatever assistance he could.
After a while Hakoda cleared his throat. "You should think about being a sketch artist for the department."
The idea was kind of appealing, so he filed it away for future career options. "Thank you."
"Would you mind if I took it out?" he asked kindly.
Aang shook his head. "I've seen it enough; I don't want it." It was the truth. Having a photographic memory did indeed come in handy, but sometimes, like now, he wished he could forget that woman's face. She had no place in his new life, with his family.
Tearing could be heard in the loaded silence as the man tore out the drawing. Opening a drawer, he withdrew a plastic cover and gingerly slid the drawing inside it. Now the picture would be preserved as the next step could be thought out. This wasn't something anyone should rush into. The fate of many lives, including his father and the person who had helped Aang escape, rested on this plan.
Hakoda looked up. "I'll take this down to the station in the morning," he said, handing the sketchbook back. "It'll be a start to understand who this woman is. You did good."
Swallowing the lump, he croaked, "Thanks."
He nodded, placing the drawing inside his drawer. "You guys better get your things together. School starts in two days."
School? He had almost forgotten, but was more than happy to forget about this for a while. After everything that had gone down, school sounded like paradise at this point. As the trio left the room, thoughts whirled around his mind liked wasps. He had done the next right thing and he knew that, but he couldn't ignore his gut. This was only the beginning. There were going to be a lot of calls to make. Choices would be thrust upon him, and this one would hopefully assist in bringing an end to this traumatizing cycle.
It was only five thirty, so the kids went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Veggie lasagna, thank God, though Sokka complained about the missing meat. Katara only shot him a hooded look threatened silence. She had prepared it the day before while Aang was still out cold. Now she popped that in the oven. It was going to take at least an hour and a half, so she and Aang set up the table while Sokka sat in the living to watch TV.
What a lazy ass.
As they set the dishware out, Aang's eyes kept glancing at Katara, feeling his cheeks flush. He thought back to when she had wrapped his ribs after the incident. About how they seemed so close to kissing. Man, how he wished they had done so. So often he thought about it, remembering how radiant and fierce she had looked.
Perhaps, after everything was said and done, he could gain the courage to tell her how he felt.
Katara must have felt him looking because she met his gaze. "Everything okay?" she asked softly.
Coughing, he nodded. "Yeah, just thinking is all."
She smiled in understanding. "Nervous about school?"
Glad for the change of subject from his mind, he smiled back. "Yeah, a little." Of course he was nervous. It had been a long time since anything normal had occurred after all.
Reaching over, Katara rubbed his shoulder with a grin. "Don't worry, Aang. You'll love the school; most of the people are great."
He shook his head, amused. "I'm not worried, Katara. I'm anticipating school. At least I'm caught up on those years I missed." Leaning against the table, his smile turned into a smirk. "Besides, with my intellect, I'm for sure going to graduate, no problem."
Katara laughed at that and what a glorious sound it was. He wanted to make her laugh all the time. "Someone has a large ego."
Aang feigned innocence, though he had to do everything he could to hold in a grin. "I don't know about that..." he said slowly.
Katara rolled her eyes, but suddenly her expression turned softer. "You know, you've changed these past couple of months."
"Yeah, I guess so," he murmured, thinking it over. She was right, of course. So much had changed for him that it was almost hard to believe what he had been before. After what he had become, the idea of the outside world had dimmed to the point where it all but vanished.
But now, looking into Katara's gentle face, he believed in a better life for himself and his family.
She reached over and grabbed his hands, her skin contrasting against his beautifully. "You've come a long way, Aang. I remember the scared boy you were. Looking at you now, one wouldn't think what had transpired in your life." She pressed her forehead against his, hands raised level to their faces. "I'm so proud of you," she added in a whisper.
The urge to kiss her right then was almost too much, but he managed to hold himself back. Now wasn't the time; this moment was so precious even without it. To know that with her, Sokka, and Suki, he could become the person he had dreamed of being. To have the courage to rise above what he had been forced to be. They were his hope.
The moment, however, was shattered when Sokka groaned, "Is the food ready yet? I don't care if I have to eat like a rabbit."
Sighing in exasperation, Katara released his hands to glower at the laid back form. "It hasn't even been a half hour yet!" she exclaimed in frustration.
Sokka sighed dramatically as he stood up. "I'm going to call Suki until dinner is ready. See ya!"
Aang snickered at his friend's obnoxious footsteps. "Well, there is something I've learned firsthand about him."
"Yeah?" she mumbled in annoyance, arms crossed. "What's that?"
He shook his head in amusement. "Never get in the way of him and food."
She snorted. "Not unless you want to be hit by his boomerang," she deadpanned.
He laughed and after a moment so did she, the atmosphere lightening to one of camaraderie and humor. They kept at it until they couldn't breathe. Only then did they stop to calm down. When they did, Katara pulled him into her arms. Automatically he reciprocated, feeling the rightness of the moment. Feeling her in his arms brought a warmth that only she had ever evoked inside his chest. He could have stayed there forever.
After a moment, she pulled away to grin at him. "Want to watch a movie until dinner is ready?"
Aang shrugged. "Sure, that sounds great." In fact, it sounded like a date to him, but he refrained from saying so out loud. That would be too much information for her.
They walked into the living room, both agreeing to watch Happy Feet. So much had changed, and despite the drawbacks that had occurred, life was blissful. He had a meaning to his life now that revolved getting better. Despite the dangers, the feelings of dread, even the nightmares, Aang was beginning to get better. It was going to take a little longer and he knew the feelings wouldn't go away completely, but he hoped, in the end, they would be pushed back.
The road to recovery was something that would take time, but with his friends there, his mother, and hopefully his father sometime down the line, Aang knew anything was possible.
For now, life was sweet.