Author's note: Hey guys! Good to see you back. This chapter was a real blast to write. Thanks for all your support so far - it really means a lot to know that people are getting excited about my writing, and I'm grateful for each and every one of you. Enjoy!

This chapter's song is 're: stacks' by Bon Iver. It's a beautiful track about struggling to let go of your love...

'Aang. Aang. Wake Up.'

Bleary eyed, the avatar peered out into the darkness of his room. It was still the dead of night. There was nobody there. He could have sworn he heard a voice just then…

Immediately turning to the smaller bed next to him, he reached a hand out, and breathed a sigh of relief. Kya was fine.

It's probably nothing.

Exhausted, he turned his pillow over and flopped back down, desperately willing himself to sleep. The last thing he needed was an untimely bout of insomnia. Just as he was beginning to feel himself drift off, there it was again…

'Aang.'

His eyes bolted open. He had definitely heard that one. A voice, entirely unrecognisable to him. Was it male? Female? Young? Old? It was impossible to say. It was simply a voice. And it called to him.

'Aang. Come.'

Tense, he sat up and sighed. No chance of sleep tonight then. Though he could not see the source of the voice, he felt himself lead by some ethereal force towards the door of his room. Treading carefully so as not to wake his daughter, he padded over to the thick wooden entryway. Clocking the Winged Lemur dozing on a cabinet next to it, he gently prodded the creature.

'Momo. Momo. I need to check something out. Make sure Kya's ok. If she wakes up, come get me.'

The lemur nodded in acknowledgement.

'Thanks buddy'.

Glancing back one last time at Kya, Aang steeled himself, and slipped out the door.

The corridor was just as dark as his room. A window at its end revealed an inky black sky above a sleeping city. He didn't know what time it was, but nobody was likely to be up at this hour.

There is a point, somewhere in the liminal space between night and morning where everything seems to stand still. Where the world seems to stop turning, and the stars grind to a halt in the sky. The monks used to call it the 'hour of spirits'. Aang was well acquainted with it. He had found, as the bridge between the worlds of spirit and man, that this hour was the best time to communicate closely with his past lives. But this was something he hadn't experienced before.

He had long suffered from bouts of insomnia, from nightmares. In years gone by, he would have Katara to comfort him whenever he woke from a terrifying dream, drenched in sweat and shivering from the cold. She would sit there and comfort him. Hold him until the panic subsided. He would close his eyes, put his head to her chest and listen to her heart beating, its rhythm slowly lulling him back to calm and sleep.

If he had nightmares now, he had to deal with them alone - he couldn't frighten Kya. Not that she'd ever notice - she was a shockingly heavy sleeper. Once, two years ago, when passing through the Great Swamp on their way to Ba Sing Se, they had set up camp for the night on a branch of the ancient banyan-grove tree in its centre. While his daughter slept, Aang had meditated, felt every heartbeat of every living being all at once in an attempt to find it again. But he couldn't. He hadn't heard that heartbeat in years. If only he had it now…

'Aaaang…'

He looked up. A tiny figure was stood at the end of the corridor, shrouded in shadow. He peered into the darkness, and his eyes widened. Was that…?

He started moving towards the end of the corridor. The figure let out a small laugh and turned a corner. He began to pick his pace up, following it as it scampered along.

'Wait-'

Aang called out, but it didn't stop. He tried desperately to focus, and shot a small blast of flame into the air to illuminate the corridor.

He froze. The corridor went dark again. Who was she? The little girl at the end of the corridor had looked far too familiar. It wasn't Kya, it couldn't have been, but whoever, or whatever it was looked eerily like her.

Getting nervous, Aang broke out into a run, closing in on the figure, who quickly darted through a doorway at the end of the hall. Readying himself, Aang closed in, took a deep breath, and burst through.

He stopped dead. It can't be.

The room was empty, save for a small rocking chair in the corner. The moonlight cast a silver stream of light through the blinds, which partially illuminated the orange and yellow robes of a frail, elderly figure sat in the chair. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

'Hello Aang. It's been a long time.'

Aang was dumbstruck. How could this be happening?

'What's happening? How are you here?'

'Oh I never really left, did I?' The figure said, softly. 'Not like you did.'

Aang couldn't describe it, but something in the figure's friendly demeanor began to shift.

'I…I had no choice' he said.

'Oh but you did, Aang. You chose to leave. And I died.'

'You would have died anyway.'

'Perhaps. But you are the avatar. You could have stopped them.'

Aang's head started to spin.

'No. I would have died too.'

'You didn't do enough. You can't. You never have. The girl. You haven't done enough…'

The figure in the chair stood. No. You can't leave now. I don't understand… Slowly, the figure moved its hands, as if parting some great sea, and Aang began to feel the ground underneath him begin to open. He looked down into the mists below, terrified. What is this? Am I dreaming? It felt so real.

'You chose to leave, Aang. You chose to leave me. You could have stayed.'

The voice had changed again. The girl. Aang looked up, searching for her while trying desperately to stop himself plummeting into the murky abyss below. A cold sweat began to soak through his shirt as he finally saw her. It was her. She stood there, eyes welling with tears, almost pleading with him. She can't have been more than five years old, but the moment their eyes met, he knew. His heart dropped.

'Ka-'

It was too late. He fell. Everything went black.

'-TARA!'

Aang shot up in his bed. His heart was pounding out of his chest, his sheets drenched. He stood up slowly, and stumbled over to the balcony, desperately gulping in the cool night air. A delicate breeze cooled him gently, and he closed his eyes, trying desperately to slow his brain down. This wasn't the first time this had happened. He could get through it, he told himself. Sinking to the floor, he put his hand over his heart and began to count the beats, waiting until they slowed. Just stay calm.

He hadn't had one like that in a long time. Coming back home might have been a bigger adjustment than he anticipated. Sure, he was happy to see everyone again, but he felt overwhelmed by it all. By seeing her. He had hoped that coming back might give him some closure. But it had only thrown him even further out of balance.

He glanced over to Kya. Still asleep. How does the kid do it?

Standing, he shuffled over to the doorway. Gently nudging Momo, he whispered…

'Momo. I'm just getting a drink. Come get me if she wakes up. Thanks buddy.'

And with that he was gone.

The wooden floorboards were cool under foot as Aang quietly made his way downstairs to the kitchen. The already large building felt even bigger at this time of night. There wasn't a sound to be heard as he shifted through the maze of corridors, past the entrance to Sokka's old room. The councilman had moved into a house on the outskirts of the city with Suki shortly before the birth of their first son. Toph had moved out not too long after, leaving Katara living alone in the building. She'd moved out of their old room into a smaller one on the second floor. Aang managed to find a route downstairs that didn't take him past it.

The kitchen was spacious, with a large sliding door opening out onto the courtyard. The moonlight was enough to illuminate the room in a subtle blue glow.

Aang filled a cup with water and sat himself on the floor, looking out at the view. This is a peaceful place. His breathing was finally steady, his heartbeat coming back down to its resting pace. He probably wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight. That's okay.

'Hey…'

He was quickly snapped out of his reverie by the familiar voice coming from the other side of the room. He turned, instinctively, his heart very quickly leaping right out of his chest all over again.

He knew the voice this time, and this one was very real. It hadn't changed all that much, really. It's owner, though… who could know? What had the last seven years done to her? Aang knew it would be naive of him to think he was coming home to the same girl who had broken him all that time ago. But he wished he was.

'Hey.'

A tense silence hung in the air. Neither of them really knew what to say next. This was the first time the two of them had been alone since… since it happened.

'Trouble sleeping?'

She knew him far too well. It was painful, somehow. Something within him stopped him telling the truth.

'What? Oh, oh no. No. Just…thirsty.'

'It's late.'

Aang let out a small, empty laugh.

'Yeah. It is.'

'You look stressed.'

'I'm fine. Just tired.'

'Aang-'

He glanced up. Their eyes met, just for a fleeting moment, before they both quickly looked away. This was excruciating. Something about hearing her say his name again sent shivers up his spine. Her voice was tender, and he found his head all of a sudden flooded with a tsunami of memories. He'd heard her say it more times than could be counted, but… but he'd missed it.

'Yeah?'

'Never mind…'

'What is it?'

'I said never mind. It's fine.'

The curtness of her tone was strangely comforting to Aang. There was the same old motherly Katara he remembered, even if for just a second. He couldn't bear it.

'Okay…'

'Okay.'

'What are you doing up?'

'I thought I heard someone calling for me. Must have been my imagination.'

Aang turned to hide his embarrassment. She knows it was me.

'Oh. Yeah, probably…'

Another long silence. They used to talk for hours. Was it really possible they just had nothing to say?

'So what have y-'

'I'm gonna go to- oh w-'

'Oh no, no you-'

'Sorry, I-'

'No, go on-'

'I was just saying I was gong to go… back to bed.'

'Oh. Yeah. Makes sense.'

Aang could have screamed.

'I'll… see you tomorrow?'

'Yeah, I've got to get Kya up and ready so…'

'Oh. Yeah. Of course. I, uh, I'm sure I'll see you at some point.'

'Yeah. Sure.'

'Okay. Night.'

'Night.'

Aang mustered a sheepish smile, but she was already out of the room by the time he looked her way. He closed his eyes, held his head in his hands. That was…awful. Had things really gotten that bad? It was like they'd never even met before. He sat and thought.

An hour later, he was still there. He couldn't get their conversation out of his mind. Maybe it's for the best. It might make things easier. No. He was right. It wouldn't. The monks would often speak of time as the greatest healer of wounds. He always used to joke that that was actually Katara…

They were right, though. The monks. This would get easier. What else was going to happen? You get your heart broken by the love of your life and leave for nearly seven years, then show up practically unannounced with a kid? No wonder things were awkward. They might never go back to the way they were. But they might go… somewhere new. Somewhere better. Aang hoped that was true.

He'd been gone long enough. Quietly ambling back to his room, he took the long way up past his - their old room. The lights inside were off, but the door sat slightly ajar. Someone's been in here. He cautiously opened the door and peered inside. It was like he'd never left. A small capsule of memory, perfectly preserved, static in time. This place had an aura, a feeling that wasn't quite real. He almost felt like he was dreaming again. They had started sharing a bed in this very room when they first moved to the city permanently. Aang sat down gently on the mattress. He didn't know when Katara had last slept in here, but from the dust on the bedposts, he could only assume it hadn't been for a while. He took a moment to take it all in. The familiar way the moonlight streamed through the blinds. The smells and sounds of many long nights spent laughing, crying, fighting, making up. It felt like this room was a vestige of years of history. He could feel every little moment they'd ever shared etched into the very walls of this place. That time was over though, he thought. It's in the past. Right?

He got up, taking care to avoid disturbing the floorboard in the centre of the room that he remembered tended to creak, quietly slipped back out and pulled the door to, before slowly making his way back to his room, to Kya.

As he fell back into bed, the sun was beginning to rise over the city. The hour of spirits was over. But he couldn't stop thinking about that moment when their eyes met for just a second. Was there still something there? Maybe, he thought to himself. Only time will tell…