Rating: G

Word Count: 772

Apologies for posting late!


Aang stumbled down the street unseeingly, not knowing where he was going and not caring. The words echoed in his head loudly and gutted him open, tearing his chest and ripping his innards out for all the world to see.

"The Air Nomads were fools and cowards. They never had the guts to do what was necessary so they wouldn't compromise their oh so important morals.

"War has no place for them and their pacifism, Avatar. You should've just killed him when you had the chance."

How, Aang wanted to scream, how do you not understand? How do you not understand that I'm not just the Avatar, but the last Air Nomad? How do you not understand that I am the only one left to carry on their legacy?

Has it ever occurred to you that our nonviolence was born from necessity? Has it ever occurred to you that killing isn't always what was "necessary"? Has it ever occurred to you that there are more ways to solve a conflict than shedding blood?

Do you even care? Is that what my people are to you, cowards who fled at the first sign of hardship? Is that how you see their beliefs of nonviolence, as foolish and undeserving to be taught?

Do you even think my people deserved to exist?

But Aang already knew what the answer would be. All the world knew was that the Air Nomads had been easily wiped off the face of the planet, and all they believed in was survival of the fittest. War takes and takes and takes, regardless of who or what it takes from. Each nation must become the strongest to persevere; there was no room for weakness.

"You're weak, just like the rest of your people! They did not deserve to exist in this world … in my world!"

War takes and takes and takes, and it doesn't care who is its victim. It took the world's compassion and replaced it with indifference. It took the innocence of children and the hope of the adults and replaced it with cynicism and bitterness. It took empathy and kindness and twisted it into scorn and hatred. It took an entire nation, Aang's people (his friends, his father, his family) and his entire culture, and the world didn't care, didn't lift a finger to help, why didn't they help—

His house loomed over him. Aang couldn't even remember how he got here. All he knew was that his hand was on the knob, but before he even turned it, the door opened to reveal Katara. Her pained expression made him wonder what she had seen in his face.

She opened her arms to him. He didn't hesitate, letting himself fall into her arms and bury his face into her shoulder.

He breathed and breathed and breathed, but all he inhaled were broken shards of glass stabbing into his lungs. Shattered pieces of his soul rattled in his chest, and he breathed and breathed and breathed, but they were caught there in his lungs, embedded with no way to be released.

Two warm hands cradled his face, comforting to the touch, and Aang sagged against Katara. He closed his eyes. "I'm so tired," he said, and there was a tremble in his voice that he wished he could hide but was unable to.

"I know," Katara murmured, and Aang thought he could hear a quaver in her voice too. "I know, Aang, I know."

Aang squeezed his eyes shut against the tears threatening to spill out and buried himself further in her comforting embrace. For a moment, he was a child again, seeing the blackened stones of his people's temples. "I just want to go home." His voice caught in his throat.

But he can't.

He can't.

He felt Katara press a kiss to the back of his neck, slow and sweet, before laying her cheek to the side of his head. "I know," she whispered sadly. "But you still have us. Me, Sokka, Zuko, Toph — we're your family now. And maybe we aren't enough and will never be enough, but I just want you to know we're still here for you."

But maybe they would be, Aang thought to himself as Katara pressed her lips against the back of his neck again. Maybe they couldn't replace his old family, but they were irreplaceable all the same. Maybe things could never be the same again, but that didn't mean it would be bad.

Maybe, being in Katara's arms and in the comfort of his newfound family … maybe it would be okay.

Maybe it would be enough.


A/N Aangst time.