A. N. : Hope you guys like my Sea Walkers, because uh. Yeah they're gonna stick around for a while. Anyway, it's Aang time ! And we're finally seeing the end of the eclipse ! Hell yeah progress !

Aang follows.

His eyes are still uncomfortably swollen, and his nose is clogged enough that each breath makes some sort of gross noise – Jet squeezes his hand a bit harder for a few seconds with each one of his loud sniffles – but he thinks he's done crying for now.

So instead he follows Ichirou – Ukon's grandson ! – and clings to his skirt with one hand while the other holds Jet's. Or maybe it's Jet who's holding Aang's hand. Huh.

Truth is, he really didn't expect to cry that much when he started. At first it was just – relief. Relief that he wasn't forgotten, that he isn't alone to remember, that Ichirou's arms are warm like Gyatso's. Old love and grief turning to new love, just like Guru Pathik said.

Then it was only grief. Gyatso is dead, Ukon is dead, Kuzon probably is too, and even if Aang isn't alone to remember them and the way the world used to be, because Ichirou is here and warm and Ukon told him about Aang – he still misses them.

And then the eclipse started.

Just like at the North Pole, when the Moon Spirit had been captured and then killed, Aang felt something inside him get – cut off. He breathed like Jeong Jeong and Zuko taught him, almost on instinct, almost like his body couldn't believe what it and Aang really knew, couldn't believe the cold emptiness gripping his stomach. He breathed like he was taught, but the comfort of heat and the internal flame Aang has come to associate with holding Lin and sitting around a fire with everyone and eating Katara's cooking just… didn't come.

He wailed against Ichirou's chest, missing Gyatso, missing the warmth, and so, so scared of what might be happening to Katara and Sokka's dad, to Bato, to Pipsqueak and The Duke, to everyone.

He could have fixed this, fixed the world. Like the Avatar should.

He could have died, unable to enter the Avatar State anymore, having lost just another part of himself.

But Ichirou was here and warm, and Aang wasn't forgotten, and neither were the Air Nomads, and the sun eventually came back along with the rest of his heart.

He isn't alone.

Aang holds tight to Jet's hand, or maybe Jet is the one holding him, just like he was the one to press a shaking hand to Aang's back when the eclipse started. They follow Ichirou's lead as he slowly walks between ship-like houses and reassures the people they come across, telling them Jet and Aang are friends.

There is someone you should meet, he told Aang after the eclipse and the tears. And so Aang followed him, and surprisingly Jet did too, without arguing or saying they should be more careful.

Aang squeezes Jet's hand, and he squeezes back.

The house they're led to isn't much different from the others, aside from the long strands of red fabric of various shades hanging from the roof, some of them holding pieces of broken metal like makeshift wind-chimes.

They ring delicately when Aang enters, politely announcing his arrival with a small gust of wind that has Ichirou turning to him in surprise. He's smiling, though, so it's the good kind of surprise.

There's an old lady inside, sitting cross-legged on nice cushions, drinking tea. Two children sit at her side, chatting with her and laughing and braiding the woman's hair in complicated patterns.

The way she sits, with her hands holding a cup in front of her chest and her legs hidden by her skirt, Aang can't see all of the lady's tattoos, but the one on her right hand swirls in a way that looks… oddly familiar. Not like Aang saw a Sea Walker with the same one before, but like – like –

Huh. He can't place it.

Grandmother Shami, Ichirou calls her. Jet elbows Aang, asks if he knows her, since he knew Ichirou's granddad, but Aang shakes his head. She's not that kind of grandmother, it's more like the Elder Monks or, uh, a village chief ? She's the Grandmother of every Sea Walker here, but not necessarily their grandma. It's a bit hard to explain though, especially when Aang never really understood the nuances of who is who's boss and why and how a Water Tribe Chief isn't quite the same as an Earth Kingdom village chief and all.

This stuff is all so confusing.

Jet nods. Then – she does look like she's pushing a hundred though, and now it's Aang's time to elbow him.

At Ichirou's call and Jet's unsubtle snickering, Grandmother Shami raises her eyes to look at them, lowers her cup to let it rest in her lap, and that's when Aang sees it. In the gap made by the collar of her shirt, on her very heart, drawn in the stark black of a new tattoo even though the ink has seeped in the skin around it like something very old, like it's been drawn over and over and over, like something that cannot be allowed to disappear –

Inked forever on Grandma Shami's skin, the Comet seems to flicker in front of Aang's eyes.