A/N: Once again, thanks to LadyFateContemplatingDisaster for playing the role of Beta. Hope you all can forgive me for the delay. I had to graduate high school.

Healed and Hunted

War on the Horizon

Chapter 27

Four Nation's Law

Kyoshi

Her grandfather-though she wasn't sure she really wanted to call him that any more-hadn't left her side since his arrival. Even here, at Mommy and Daddy's work, he was watching her...not carefully, but...longingly? As if staring at her longer would make her like him better.

"So, Kyoshi, what's going on at school?" the old man asked.

The young girl didn't answer him for a moment. Daddy had, the first night, told her not to talk about being an Inheritor. Not to talk about Band Together. He didn't tell her why, but the instruction was not up for discussion.

"You're what, second grade now?"

Kyoshi blinked, "First. I'll be in second grade next year."

Though the girl didn't know it, she'd picked up her parents' affinity for answering without saying anything of substance. She just barely noticed her mother's quietly proud gaze.

"Wow. All grown up. What do you want to be when you're older?" Grandfather asked trying to keep the conversation going.

She thought about it, then gave an answer far above her age, "Free."

It was the elder male's turn to blink. She could see it in his face: what child gave an answer like that? Didn't most seven year olds want to be princesses and doctors?

"I'm tired. Mommy, can I go home now?"

Her mother looked at her, sighing.

"I'll take her, Suki. Don't worry about it," Hakoda offered immediately. The fear that gripped the little girl didn't make sense to her.

Just as quickly her father objected, "No, you can't go home. Kat isn't there to watch you."

Kyoshi gulped, unsure of what to do. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. The house was...isolated, and she could take care of herself. But she got the distinct impression her father was afraid to leave her alone with her grandfather.

"You can go lay down in the spare office. There are pillows and things in the closet. You know where?" her father continued, looking directly at her, avoiding her grandfather at all costs.

She nodded and ran to get what she needed to hide in the other room. As soon as she was free of the adults, she realized she could breathe easier. She hadn't noticed it had been difficult, actually.

Once she was sure they were talking, she snuck back to listen.

"Is something wrong?" her grandfather was asking. She could tell he was angry.

Her father seemed just as mad. "You don't get to ignore her her entire life and just...show up, Dad."

It was quiet again.

"There's something else. Don't lie to me, boy."

No one had called her father 'boy' before. He was old, wasn't he? No one called old people 'boy'. Much less her dad. That was ridiculous. Still, she pressed her ear against the wood.

"Does it have something to do with this nonsense law firm you run?" her grandfather was saying.

Now she was mad. Daddy's work was important. Who was this man to come in and say otherwise?

"It isn't a nonsense firm. If you've come to insult our work, there's the door," her father said.

The silence that followed was tense.

"Inheritors aren't all bad. They're normal people, Dad. They deserve the same defense-"

"Normal? Normal people don't bend the earth and air around their bodies."

The argument was escalating. They were starting to yell. And, until the word killer slipped from her father's lips, she managed not to burst into the room.

The door flew open, and she stood, mouth open and body still.

"Kyoshi. How long?" her father asked. He was simply staring at her, and all the anger seemed to have vanished. It was replaced by weariness, she saw. He just looked so tired.

"Long enough," she said. She didn't exactly think it was the right answer, but she'd seen it in a movie once. Or twice.

"Kyoshi. Don't do this," her father said, sounding like he was asking rather than telling.

The young girl wasn't afraid, though. She looked up to her supposed grandfather, stating, "You said Inheritors are all bad."

The old man was still mad. His mouth was set into a harsh line, but he answered her anyway. "They are. And I don't expect you to understand, child."

She took a deep breath. Raised a hand. Another breath. And, as she had been practicing, pulled the water from a glass on a nearby desk. Another breath. Circular motions, her whole arm. The water moved closer, hovering in the air. She was too busy focusing on the water to watch her parents.

"No. No grandchild of mine-" the old man started.

Kyoshi's father spoke up then. "You should leave, Dad."

The men stared at each other. Kyoshi returned the water to its container before looking back to them. Before she could speak, however, the front door opened. In walked Aunt Kat and Lee, red bands proudly displayed on their arms.

"Not you, too. Not my own child," the eldest man said, as if denying the truth would make it so.

And Aunt Kat, who had been smiling, let her face fall into the scariest expression Kyoshi had ever seen.

Four Nations Law

Kat

The fight she had been expecting. She hadn't, however, planned on her niece being there. It changed things drastically. She'd come prepared to yell and be yelled at. Lee had kept her laughing the entire way here, putting on an unbelievable accent to imitate her father. Somehow, Lee imagined her father being something of a Texas Ranger.

The door opened, and her father was standing there with a dumbstruck look on his face. As immediately as she had stepped through the threshold, she took stock of the situation. Her niece and that look of defiance. Her father, and his rage filling his face. Her brother, horror struck and proud, all at once.

"Not you, too. Not my own child," her father said.

And like that, the moment for reflection was over. Action time. Snap to and make sail.

"Suki. Can you take Kyoshi?" Sokka asked.

Her sister-in-law nodded and grabbed the child, forcing the young girl out the door before another word was spoken. Everyone in the room was tense, waiting.

"And you? Who are you?" her father directed at Lee.

Said Inheritor stepped up to bat with practiced ease, answering, "I'm Lee. I'm dating your daughter, sir."

Kat almost smiled. If they were normal people, with no unusual abilities...this might have been a frightening admission. As it was, they were not normal people.

Her father's eyes fixated on Lee's arm.

"We just stopped by to say good-bye. Toph and Aang will meet us at the bus stop," Lee continued, as if the stare didn't bother him at all.

"I'm sure Kyoshi will appreciate it," Sokka said.

Her father hadn't so much as blinked. Lee grabbed her hand subtly, and shot her a smile. He was here, he was signaling, no matter what.

"It was good to see you, Dad," Kat muttered.

The old man reached for her as she started to walk: "Wait."

"Going to yell at me? Tell me to take the I-suppressant? I don't have time for that, Dad." Kat stared at him, trying to make her eyes as passive as she could.

Hakoda blinked, let his hand fall. Opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally asked.

"Because you're still looking at me like I'm your nightmares come to life," she muttered. And, it was true. His eyes were still wide, and he was subconsciously pulling away from her.

Her father shook his head. "You should have told me."

Sokka spoke up. "And what would you have said? The same thing you told your Inheritor granddaughter? That all Inheritors are bad people?"

Kat felt her mouth drop open. It was one thing to say that to adults, another entirely to say it to children. And her father should have known better.

"You haven't been here to tell. You were out killing people like me," Kat hissed.

Lee corrected, "Like us."

That made it worse. Even more so when she added Aang, Toph and Kyoshi to the list. Those people could have been her family. Her father was a threat to them. And that she would not stand for.

"Just wait. Please. I just need a minute to-"

Kat shook her head, "You can have a month. Enjoy."

With that, she nodded to her brother and went on her way. Lee followed behind, pressing close against her back. The physical touch was enough to keep her steady. Kyoshi and Suki were across the street, in the ice cream parlor. She could see them through the window.

"Hey. You good?" Lee wanted to know.

Kat decided to jaywalk, in order to reach her niece. Lee held her hand and went with her.

"I don't know. Guess we're two peas in a pod, right? Father issues, all around. Take one down, pass it around," she muttered unhappily.

Once they reached the other side, Lee kissed her. A blank, chaste kiss. But it warmed her heart.

"Fortunately, mine can't show up unannounced, forcing me to leave my home in the middle of the night," he said, pulling the door open. The sweet scent in the air threw her off balance, as it always did.

"I am sorry. I believe I apologized. Thoroughly."

Lee laughed, "I wasn't complaining. Time for ice cream?"

They were, actually, pressing the limits of their time. They had planned on a fierce verbal fight and hasty retreat. They had, so far, succeeded.

"You don't like ice cream." They were at the table now. Kyoshi was wiping her eyes.

Lee sat down. "You do."

"Kyoshi, you okay? What you did was very brave." Kat grabbed the girl's hand and kissed it.

The child looked up, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry I made him mad."

"You know that it isn't your fault. He's just... set in his ways," Kat said, looking to her sister. The woman seemed grateful for the assistance.

Kyoshi didn't say anything.

Lee laughed. "You know why you're my favorite kid?"

Kat's niece looked at him, grinning. "Because I'm like Aunt Kat?"

Kat snorted. Then, when Lee didn't say anything to refute the claim, she stared at him. He was making a point to stare at Kyoshi.

"That, too. But, also, because you're probably the smartest person I know. You see the world for what it could be. A lot of people need that. You can't let people like him make you doubt yourself. Promise?" Lee offered her a hand. It was the most, Kat thought, he'd ever said at once. At least, to other people. To her, he was all whispers and conversation.

The little girl sniffed. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Well, guess what? I believe in you. And so does Kat, and your parents. And the Ava. So, you have to believe in you, too."

And, with that, Kyoshi shook his hand. Kat couldn't keep the smile off of her face. Of course, Suki then shot her a look that made her cheeks turn red. It was approval, she knew.

"Well. Kat, we really need to get going." Lee touched her hand carefully. He was always careful in front of Kyoshi. Cautious, to a fault.

Katara stood and stretched. "Alright. Fun while it lasted. Return soon, I hope. Be good, Kyoshi."

The girl gave her a hug, as did Suki. And, to Katara's surprise, the hugs extended to Lee. Her boyfriend's induction into the family seemed...cemented.

As they were walking away Kat overheard her niece saying, "Can I call him uncle, now?"

Table SEVEN

Aang

Time seemed to stretch, drag and jump all at once. He watched things change around him. The months passed quickly, the days slow. The world did not freeze around him. In fact, it sped by while he was stuck in school.

He allowed himself to be interviewed frequently. He was trying to appease his people while not threatening the nonnies. It was difficult, some days. Some days, the reporters had agendas. Some days, he was merely a plaything or figurehead. It was a rare occasion where someone wanted his honest opinion.

His family had, mostly, stayed out of the limelight. They were peripheral support, but did not paint targets on themselves. Occasionally, though, stories would pop up. One article had openly attacked Kat for her treatment of her father, though no one had taken credit for the story. Hakoda had left that day, and had not spoken to Sokka since. It had been six months. Aang held little hope that Katara's father would restore himself in his sister's life.

They were well into their third year of University. Kat was teaching classes, as were Lee and Toph. Aang had no one to teach, his lore long forgotten. But, he was the Ava and there was always plenty to do.

The date was set. For his wedding, to the most wonderful girl. This December, after their graduation. The tenth of December. It seemed so far away. So close, too, when he considered the length of the journey. It was four hundred and twenty-two years in the making, actually. What were a few more months?

"So... Kat. What are you going to do after graduation?" Lee was asking. The lunchroom was quiet now. Less students. Every month, less. It didn't help that the nurse of the University offered the I-suppressant as often as band-aids.

Kat stared down at her drink. "That depends."

"On?"

Aang answered for her, saying, "On what the world is like. War, peace. Battle."

Kat shot him a grateful smile. The two of them had spoken about it at length. She was worried. About everything. He had been amazed at how much she'd been thinking about it.

She wanted him to arrange a meeting with the President. She wanted him to start coming up with plans. With programs. With speeches. She had a few of her own, of course, but she would never tell him anything. Any decisions or ideas for the future had to come from him. She would help him-until the day she died, she said-no matter what.

As always, she was prepared to offer her sword arm and an olive branch. A warrior and a priest. A fighter and a healer. Two sets of personalities, waiting on the world to decide.

"Well, I was thinking. What if we got an apartment somewhere between here and Frisco?" Lee said calmly, as if commenting on the weather.

The entire table froze. Aang counted six heartbeats.

"I'm not selling my studio," Kat said, taking a sip of her drink.

Lee copied the movement, "I'm not selling my motorcycle."

"Can I paint the walls?"

"Want you to," Lee answered.

"Fine," Kat said simply.

"Good." Lee mirrored her tone.

They weren't even looking at each other.

Aang could only smile. A little, secret smile. This bet, he had won. Finally! A rare occurrence indeed. It called for celebration. And so, with a glad heart, he called for said celebration.

And his call was well met.

The Oval Office

Secretary of Defense

The reports were...not as he expected. Many were flocking to the clinics, taking as much of the I-suppressant as the government could supply. But those who remained...they were on edge. They saw the drug as a threat. Which it could be, he supposed.

"Mr. President, I don't know what to tell you."

The president seemed...bored. And irritated.

"Are we unable to quell the rebellions? Can we not contain our own people?" The president rubbed his face. It was something the Secretary of Defense tried not to notice. The man was supposed to be bullet proof.

"The Ava is trying. He preaches peace, yet his people respond by becoming more riled up."

"Our people. They aren't his. They're ours. They're Americans. Not nonnies and Inheritors," the president snapped. The secretary flinched.

The Commander in Chief was not a man for yelling or snapping. He was a calm man, but currently under a country load of stress. If not a world load.

"The more people that take the medicine, the more agitated the rest of them become. We're...stuck, sir," he said honestly. There was nothing to do. They were doing what they could. Crowd control measures. But to what end did they push their own people?

"I need the Ava here. He and I need to have an honest to God sit-down. Coordinate."

The Secretary blinked, saying, "He can't. Not for another four months. Assuming he passes his tests. He can't legally leave the school until then."

There was a pause where the President stared very intently at the papers on his desk. The Secretary waited patiently.

"Get the Multi-Test Bill signed. Get it passed. Cash in what favors you need. I want this done yesterday," the President ordered.

The Multi-Test bill would allow Inheritors to start taking the exit exams in their second year. It also gave an allowance of three exams. So those who failed their first and second exams would not be shipped to prison. Those currently incarcerated for failing the test would be given the same chances. But there would be no option of suing for wrongful imprisonment. The Inheritors would either take the chance, or not.

With a nod, the man left. It wouldn't take many favors, the Secretary thought. Many had already been murmuring about backing the bill. All they were waiting on was the all clear from the President. And now they had it.