Sokka headed down the stairs and saw Aang run up and disappear into their sleeping quarters, slamming the door in the process. What was that about? He shook his head. I'm sure I'll hear about it soon enough.
As predicted, once he reached the deck, the other three filled him in on what happened. Katara was in the middle of demanding why Zuko and Toph thought it best to tell him people were going to die. In Sokka's opinion, her problem probably had more to do with her not being there when he was told rather than the telling itself, but that was out of his hands.
And while Zuko and Toph were right in telling Aang—he should have known more people were going to die in the fight against Ozai if he didn't already—there was probably a better way to go about it. Somewhere not in the rain, right after an Ocean Giving, with two of the bluntest people on the planet.
"Look, I know what he's going through—I think we all do." There was a difference between knowing and understanding something, between training for a fight and actually fighting, between knowing someone will die and realizing it will be someone with a name and a face and a family.
Before Yue died, Mom, whom he remembered as a feeling more than anything else, had been the biggest loss in his life. Losing Yue was different. That had been the moment he understood what losing someone close to him cost. There had been other losses like Grandfather and Kaska, but it wasn't the same.
"Why don't we give him some time? Or maybe you," Sokka gestured to Katara, "could check on him."
Katara gave Zuko and Toph the evil eye before turning and marching up the stairs.
Sokka turned to the two of them. "Was he that upset?"
Toph shrugged, but it wasn't made with her usual careless attitude, and Zuko, keeping his voice low, said, "Yeah."
"I'm sure he'll be okay. He just needs to, you know, get through it." And hopefully he'll figure out what he's going to do about stopping Ozai for good.
-o-0-
"Aang." Knock, knock, knock. "Aang."
No answer. Heavy, adult footsteps sounded above her. She debated whether to open the door just to make sure he was okay.
Then, a shatter of glass.
Decision made. "Aang?!" Katara said as she pushed open the door. A quick survey of the room revealed the window closest to her bed had been flung open with enough force to break the glass. Glancing at Aang's bed, she saw his staff was gone, and a piece of paper weighted down by a stone lay in its center. It said, I'm sorry. I have to do this by myself.
Her heart felt like it had sunk to her stomach. "Aang!"
"Katara!" She turned to find Dad standing in the doorway. "What's going on?"
"He's gone!" she cried.
Without responding, Dad turned and left the room, leaving her alone. A gust of wind passed through the open window, ruffling her hair and causing the glass particles on the ground to tinkle as they moved.
No questions or complete thoughts passed through her mind, only a gasping pain that pervaded every nerve, leaving room for nothing else. Tears, warm against her cool skin, tracked down her face and dripped onto her hands clasped in her lap.
He left them. He hadn't been taken; he wasn't dead; he'd left.
"Katara." Dad was back. "His, uh, Appa is still here. Are you sure he's gone?"
Katara tried wiping her tears away, but new ones formed just as quickly. She nodded, unable to speak, and waved Aang's note as evidence.
Dad took the note and studied it. Finding nothing of use, he gave it back to her. "I'm so sorry."
She balled it up and tried to throw it across the room, but it only flew an arm's length away before the light material lost momentum and hit the ground with a faint, unsatisfying tap. "That's—" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "That's it? 'I'm sorry'?" She raised her voice: "'I'm sorry'?! He left because of you! You pushed him away!" Tears continued flowing but she didn't care, and Dad only stared back at her. "You—You put all this pressure on him, talking about he's the greatest hope in the world in a hundred years. He's twelve! Twelve! No kid should have to think about how they're going to kill the Fire Lord!"
"I know—"
The words couldn't stop coming: "And now he's convinced he has to do it by himself! It's stupid and selfish! He can't protect us from a war that's happening around us. He'll just get himself killed when we could have helped him. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he know we'll just hate him for leaving? For leaving us alone? Why did he leave us?" she cried, gasping for breath. "Why, Dad?"
Katara closed her eyes, lost to the world, wanting to be lost. Then she felt her father's arms come around her, pressing her tightly against his chest. At first, she resisted, keeping herself stiff against him and not returning his embrace. Then, slowly, her breathing calmed. "I love you, Katara," Dad's low voice thrummed by her ear. "I never wanted to leave you and Sokka. You were my whole world after your mother…but because I loved you, I also had a job to do: I had to protect you the only way I knew how." He kissed the top of her head.
She inhaled his familiar scent. It smelled of something she didn't have the right words for, something that smelled like roughness and the ocean and strength—and something else that was uniquely "Dad." She pressed her face into his clothes, trying to absorb the scent. Home. That's what he smelled like.
And then she cried, without shame and without reserve, letting free all the frustrations, worries, and fears that had been building inside of her since she didn't know when. She let them all go—not forever—but for that moment alone with her dad, she did.
-o-0-
The wind had started to pick up, and though Toph couldn't see the lightning, its thunder was growing louder and more frequent. The nose of the ship was also bobbing more than it had been, and she was finding herself getting sick to her stomach.
Two pairs of footsteps, one light that favored the left foot and one heavier, vibrated down the stairs. "Katara and Hakoda are coming," Toph announced a few seconds before they exited the tower. Something was off. Katara's heartbeat was too fast.
"Aang's gone," Katara declared, voice thick with emotion.
"Gone where?" Zuko asked.
"What did he say?" asked Sokka.
"I—I don't—"
"Maybe," Hakoda interrupted, setting his hand on his daughter's shoulder and looking every which way, "we should talk a little quieter."
"Gone where?" Toph repeated Zuko's question, keeping her voice at a level that was in no way quiet. There was no one close enough to hear outside of the five of them but, even so, it was not the time to save face, not when the crew could help look for Aang.
Katara shook her head. "I don't know. He's just gone. He left before I could talk to him." She held up a piece of paper.
"Translation for the blind, please?" Toph asked, and Katara read Aang's note. "Ugh. I wish he never met that Guru Pathetic guy. It messed him all up."
"Appa's still here," Hakoda pointed through the tower to where Appa was hunkered down out of the rain, "so he left on his glider. In this weather."
"He's strong," Sokka said, his voice tight. "He'll make it." Toph tried to ignore what his heartbeat told her, but she couldn't help but share his worry.
"But the last time he got caught in a storm alone…" Katara trailed off. Oh. Toph had forgotten about that.
"I know," Sokka replied, reaching up and squeezing her shoulder.
"What happened?" asked Zuko.
Katara closed her eyes and shook her head.
Sokka took over, explaining, "He almost died and saved himself by encasing himself in ice for a hundred years."
Zuko connected the dots. "That's why he's so young after all this time, and—"
"Yeah," Sokka said, "we can talk about that later. We need to focus on saving him first, okay?"
"Right. Sorry."
Sokka dipped his head. "Okay. So, possible locations? My guess is straight to the Fire Lord."
Toph replied, "He can be an idiot, but he's not that stupid."
"Where would he be, then?"
"I don't know."
They all stood there for a while, the seconds slipping away as the seas grew rougher and spilled over the deck every now and then.
Another wave of nausea swept through Toph. "I need to lie down," she said, already beginning to move. "Get out of this storm."
"That's it!" Sokka burst out. They turned to him, not quite sure of the revelation. Pointing up, Sokka said confidently, "I don't know where he wants to go but that's where he'd want to be right about now."
-o-0-
Hakoda stood before his children, their friend, and their enemy-turned-friend. He'd been uncertain of the Heir's commitment, but observing him teaching the Avatar and his son made clear his loyalties. Any remaining doubt he may have had about the boy vanished after seeing the look of genuine concern on his face when he heard of the Avatar's disappearance. By Tui's light none of the crew was around when that happened.
The storm was as strong as predicted by the Heir—Zuko, he reminded himself, but knew the mental correction wouldn't stick. If they were going to remain on the ship, they'd have to go below deck before too long and search for the Avatar when the storm passed.
His daughter, with surprising strength but unsurprising determination, said, "We need to go after Aang. Now."
"And if we find him?" the firebender asked. "What will have changed? If he wants to leave again, he will."
A good point.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Katara replied darkly. The Heir made a sound, and she glared back with a look Hakoda knew very well, only not when it was given by Katara.
"Very helpful. Thank you," Sokka mocked and quickly received a punch on the arm by the other girl, Toph. "Hey! If we're going to do anything, we need to do it quick. This storm's getting a lot worse."
Katara nodded in agreement. "Dad, we need to go. This'll be our only chance to find Aang." She and everyone else—save the blind girl—looked up at him.
Considerations swirled in Hakoda's mind like snow flurries. There was the storm, of course, and the danger it presented to his children if they left. There were the chances of them finding the Avatar, and the low probability he would return and not leave again. But there was also the shear amount of reliance everyone had on the Avatar staying alive to fight and kill the Fire Lord; Katara may not like him saying it, but it was true.
Those thoughts, and more, presented themselves as weighted variables settling into a single patter, a solution, a course of action. But the weights kept shifting, creating a kaleidoscope of solutions that changed before he could fully appreciate each. If the children hadn't been there, or maybe with more time he might have been able to decipher it all, but, he reminded himself, those things were just more variables, not answers.
He looked down at his daughter, noticing the fierceness in her eyes. She was no longer small and neither was Sokka. Both had grown since he'd seen them last, and most of their baby fat was gone, leaving behind the beginnings of womanhood and manhood in their appearances.
How much had he missed? He didn't want to consider it. Sokka's voice had changed, so had his bearing. It was one belonging to someone put into danger: constantly searching, scanning, taking in information. And though Bato had been there to witness it, it still tore at Hakoda that he had not been there to see his son tested and become a man.
And then there was his little girl, Katara, for she would always be that to him in one way or another, no matter her age or appearance. She might not look like Kya but, oh, she was her in every other possible way: her attitude, her kindness, and even the way she clasped and unclasped her hands when nervous. She isn't asking for permission, he thought with a ghost of a smile as he looked at her now. If only she was here to see you. She'd be so proud. "Do what you need to," he replied. His hand almost went up to cup her face in his hand like he used to when she was small. Almost.
A partial solution presented itself: an initial heading that hopefully bore them to the correct destination. It didn't address everything, but perhaps it would give them a greater chance at success despite the pain it would cause. "When you find him. Don't come back here," he said, speaking to all of them in a firm voice. His children's expressions made him hesitate, but he pushed forward, focusing on Sokka: "They'll be looking for our ship, and I don't want any of you to get caught. Help him." He looked at the Heir. "Train him. Make him ready. Right now, he needs you all more than I do." A small lie—or was it? There was enough truth in it for it to be true. Regardless, they would be safe or, at least, safer than if they were with him. "We'll meet at the rendezvous with everyone else."
Katara caught his eye and he knew what she was thinking, after all, she'd already said it: We could help you. But she couldn't understand a parent's love, not yet. "I love you," he said and hoped she continued to believe him.
She stepped forward and gave him a hug. Not a clinging, desperate one like she had given him two years ago when he left; it was strong and much too quick for his liking. It was goodbye, for now. "I love you, Dad," she said, stepping back, her eyes filling up with tears.
Then came Sokka. He struggled to copy his sister's formality and held on a second longer, one that Hakoda cherished. "I'll miss you," Sokka choked out as his arms wrapped around his father.
"Not as much as I will," Hakoda replied when they separated. "Remember: we're meeting in thirteen days from now. Thirteen. Then onto the invasion four days after that." There was so much to do before then: finding a way to move his men across the bay undetected, working the few spies they had for additional intelligence, discussing and revising the current invasion strategy, addressing morale and the rumblings about his ability as Chief—not to mention finding or fishing enough food to feed everyone.
Sokka's head bobbed, but he didn't reply.
On a more encouraging note, he added, "And then onto great things," but that seemed to make his son's spirits lower further.
He turned to the others, readying to address them as well. Before he got a word out, Toph said, "Bye, Pops, and thanks for the ride."
He still didn't know exactly what to make of the girl who seemed to thrive on chaos, but he gave a small chuckle, inclined his head, and said, "My pleasure."
The Heir—Zuko—stayed where he was a few steps away and said, nodding once, "Thank you. For everything." Hakoda stepped forward until he was standing in front of the firebender. He held out his hand to him, once an enemy, now an ally. Without another word, Zuko took hold of his forearm and Hakoda did the same with his, looking each other in the eye. A short and silent correspondence took place and he let go.
"Now, go," he ordered. "The storm's only going to get worse."
They hesitated half a second and then rushed off to the tower, throwing their meager possessions together. Hakoda had his men round up some food, money, and other supplies for them, not too much, less their bison—Appa—would be too heavily laden. There was one last quick goodbye, but everything that needed to be said had been said already.
The flying bison took to the sky, rising quickly but erratically as he and his passengers were buffeted by winds. Then they were in the clouds, gone from sight and hopefully safe.
Whispering a quiet prayer to the Ocean and Moon spirits, Hakoda turned his back and went inside. He'd tell the men the Avatar went off to train, taking his friends with him. That would be true enough…if they found him. If they didn't, well, I'll have bigger problems than lying, he supposed.
-o-0-
Sokka's ears popped every few seconds as Appa rose swiftly through the clouds. The bison seemed to anticipate the lightning because he would swerve just in time to avoid bolts that made everyone's hair stand on end.
The mixture of wind, rain, and thunder made it impossible to hear anything else, so Sokka had to keep looking behind him to check that everyone was still on board. Toph had her eyes shut tight and white-knuckled the saddle's edge; Momo huddled against her chest. Zuko's eyes were similarly closed, one hand on their supplies and the other on the saddle. The most helpful of the group by far, Katara, bended a small water shield around herself and Sokka to protect them from the pelting rain.
"C'mon, Appa!" Sokka encouraged. Appa probably couldn't hear him, but at least it felt like he was doing something besides holding onto the reins for dear life. "Up! C'mon. Up!" That was the only direction he knew would lead out of the storm.
After a final gust of wind like it was the storm's last attempt to stop their escape, they broke through the clouds to a wonderfully blue, middle-of-the-day sky. An endless sea of slow-moving clouds undulated below them like a second ocean and, like the ocean, told nothing of the strong forces and chaos below. Conversely, a large anvil cloud off to Sokka's left towered high above, an ominous gray periodically pierced by white lightning. It was a singular but powerful warning of the danger that lied within.
But while the clouds told Sokka where to avoid, there was nothing that pointed him in the direction of Aang. Now what? "See anything?" he shouted.
"No," Katara called.
Zuko sat at the back of the saddle so Sokka only heard a faint, "'O," which, based on his tone, was a "no."
Great. Sokka leaned over the side and asked Appa's large, right eye. "Any ideas?" The beast gave a sniff then shook his head with a grunt. "Same to you."
-o-0-
Appa circled the dark arm of the storm, the only point of difference in the sky-floor of repetitious clouds. He corrected again, fighting against the eastern wind that pulled everything westward, including the storm. Air currents were more stable but stronger as his altitude increased.
His passengers spoke in worried tones that rose and fell with the swiftness of sparrowhawks. Their energies infected his own, and he gave an uneasy shake of his head. His-Aang was not there and they were looking for him, that much Appa knew, but the rain had washed away any smell of him. For now, only the stinging scent of lightning was there, already mixing with the sulfuric odor from the islands below.
The humans stopped talking. A light tug on his left horn brought him away from the storm's center and towards the outer bands. Islands appeared through the broken clouds, islands which had already been visited by the storm.
He landed on one such island, a small one that had many broken branches and leaves scattered everywhere. As he rested and snacked on the fresh greens which littered the ground, his passengers ate in near-silence. Once they were done, Tiny-Strong raised up a boulder about the size of Appa himself, and slammed it into the ground once, then again, hard enough for the ground to shake beneath his six feet. He wasn't worried by such a display—things like that happened around him often—but it was puzzling. Tiny-Strong shook her head and they, as quickly as they arrived, all piled back onto him and he took off, keeping at a lower altitude to watch for his-Aang.
They repeated the curious process several times: land, shake the earth, take off. Even with their frequent stops, Appa felt himself begin to tire, his tail lowering more and more as time went on. Yet between his own desperation and that of his passengers, he pressed on until the sun set and the crescent moon was alone in the sky.
-o-0-
Sokka's eyes watered, but he kept on the lookout for any sign of Aang. He'd held Appa's reins the entire day and though Katara, and even Zuko, had offered to take his place, he'd refused. The thought of giving up his seat somehow meant they had taken another step back in finding Aang. So he'd stayed, keeping his head on a swivel and looking for a flash of the red glider.
Glancing back, each of the team was doing their best to do the same. Katara had her eyes on the sky above in case Aang was still flying, and Zuko was in the back looking behind them. Toph was sitting up, massaging her feet.
The sky was dark, save the moon and the brightest stars, but their light was shrouded by thin clouds so that it was not bright enough to define anything below except the most obvious of objects, namely the large gaps of blackness that identified the islands amongst the shimmering sea. Some of the larger islands were decorated with orange and white pinpricks of light from small houses and villages, but unless Aang had been captured—which Sokka didn't want to consider at the moment (yet)—he would not be there.
Silver light flashed from the corner of Sokka's eye. An island farther to the—Sokka craned his neck and checked the stars—east glowed, and not just from cooking fires. A small tug on Appa's reins carried them there to investigate. The far side of the island was covered with red and yellow lava flowing down into the ocean, while another portion had slow streams of deep red that were dim against the black rock.
Another flash, and Sokka's eyes were drawn to the closest shore. The sharp rocks stuck out of the surf as wave after wave threw themselves against them. His gaze drifted over the land and sea. Rough. Sharp. Wave. Rocky. Rough. Smooth. Wave. Ro—What? Sokka's eyes shot back to the out-of-place smooth texture. He already started to tell himself, It's got to be a water-logged branch or rock or something, not willing to let hope in after a day filled with close to a dozen tricks of the mind telling him that a branch or a porpoising ocean creature was Aang.
The clouds shifted and let down more light. But it's really shiny, and round, and connected to a bod—"Sprits, I think that's Aang!" Sokka called out, voice cracking. Everyone rushed to the front of the saddle, causing Appa to grunt with the sudden change in balance. Katara and Zuko followed his finger pointing at the still figure below, but Sokka wasn't waiting for confirmation. He shouted, "We're landing!" at Appa, and they dove, landing on the part of the island that didn't have much lava activity.
Toph beat Sokka leaping to the ground first. "Whoa. Weird," she remarked, her toes gripping the rock underfoot.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing important. Let's go."
The four of them, Appa, and Momo ran, bounded, and glided toward the figure by the waves. The moonlight lit Sokka's path while he ran in the lead.
The person was moving, crawling up the rock-filled shore. "Thank the spirits," Sokka whispered under his breath. At least they were alive.
Sokka's heart nearly exploded with happiness when he glimpsed the blue arrow on Aang's head. "Aang," he said to himself, then shouted again so everyone could share his joy: "Aang!"
They reached him in under a minute, and Sokka and Zuko picked him up and moved him further inland before setting him down on his back. Aang's eyes fluttered as he groaned, "Yue?"
Yue? Sokka frowned. "Aang?" he said, tapping Aang's cheek to bring him fully back to the present.
Katara made a fist and rubbed the boy's chest with her knuckles. "Can you feel this, Aang?"
His eyes shot open. "Ow!" he said, swatting Katara's hand away instinctively. Momo leapt into his arms and, more awake, Aang pet him and asked, "How'd you find me?"
Katara smiled, her eyes bright with tears. "We've been flying all day searching for you. Sokka saw you first."
"I saw you among the rocks," Sokka explained. "Spirits bless your shiny bald head!" He rubbed it as if for good luck, and everyone chuckled, giddy with relief, though worry still hung in the air.
Katara finally asked what the others were wondering: "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." Aang sat up and looked down at his body, checking his arms and legs. "Everything seems fine."
The atmosphere softened as they collectively sighed. "Good," Katara said, leaning forward and giving him a hug.
Toph joined in, squeezing Aang as hard as she could, and Momo slipped out from the girls' hug. "Don't you ever," the earthbender said through clenched teeth, "leave us again like that."
Also tightening her hug, Katara said, "Aang?"
"Okay! Okay!" he yelped then laughed as they let go. "I promise. I'm," he grew quiet, "I'm really sorry I did that."
"That's okay, buddy." Sokka hugged him, trying to impart all the worry, relief, and happiness he felt. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"Me too!" Aang grinned.
Zuko moved forward and crouched by his side. "I'm really glad we found you, Aang, and that you're safe. If I had any part in you leaving—"
"—or me," added Toph.
"—I'm sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean—"
Aang cut him off by pulling him into a hug. "No, I'm sorry, Zuko. You're just trying to help me, and all I'm doing is messing things up."
"No, you aren't," he replied, unsuccessfully attempting to pully away from the hug. Sokka chuckled, then laughed when Zuko noticed he was being watched.
Finally, Aang let Zuko go, and his face fell. "I have so much to do—"
"We have so much to do," Katara corrected. "And, yes, we do, but you'll have all our help."
Sokka started to add on to her statement, but was interrupted by a loud harumph from behind. He glanced back and saw Appa shake himself and growl.
"Boy," Aang began as he stood up, "I'm so sorry." He walked forward and stretched his arms wide to hug his furry friend, but Appa lowered and shook his head—and massive horns—again. Aang paused, letting his arms drop to his sides. "I'm sorry," he repeated softly. "I'm sorry," he said again, this time on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I'm sorry I left you." He turned to the rest of them. "I'm sorry I left all of you. I really am." Then, back to Appa, he said, dropping his voice so that it barely made it past his lips, "You're my oldest friend. I can't do this without you. Please, forgive me. Please."
A second passed, and Appa moved his head closer, his cheek nuzzling against his body. "Okay," Aang said, "let's go back."
"Back where?" Sokka said, crossing his arms and mustering up a grin, not mentioning that, once again, Aang had forced him to leave Dad. "We aren't going back."
Answering Aang's confused expression, Katara said, "We're still meeting Dad for the invasion, but I think we'll be safer traveling separately," adding, "and you'll have more room to train too."
"Yeah, Twinkle Toes. I still have more training to pound into you," Toph said, smacking her fist against her palm to emphasize her point.
Zuko added, "And I'll try to do a better job teaching you."
Aang nodded and smiled.
Glancing at their surroundings, Sokka determined, "While I'm tired, I'm not tired enough to sleep with lava so close to me. Why don't we find someplace better?" Everyone readily agreed, happy to be reunited.