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Bato had never had children of his own. He'd made his peace with the fact that he'd never have children a long time ago, even though it hurt deep down. He'd always wanted kids, ever since he was still a child himself, but as he'd grown up, he'd realised that he was… different. He was gay. And he didn't want to put himself through a relationship with a woman to satisfy his longing for children.
And then his best friend married Kya. Bato had tried so hard to push down the pain he felt, telling himself that it was stupid, hopeless. He needed to focus on the fact that his friend was happy, that Hakoda was deeply in love with somebody else.
Then, along came Sokka. Bato had been woken in the middle of the night by Hakoda running in and shaking him awake, because Kya had given birth he had a son and "he's so tiny, Bato, he looks just like his mother!" Kya had let Bato hold him, and Bato's heart broke further. He'd never have a son of his own to hold like this, but he could share this joy with his friend nonetheless. He could do his best to be a part of this tiny boy's life, although Bato was having a hard time understanding how something so small could cry so loud.
And Katara had been a bit of a miracle. Kya had been exceptionally sick throughout the pregnancy, and they weren't sure if Katara would survive or not. When she arrived into the world, it took Kya near a day to give birth to her, and Katara was quiet, but okay. And then she cried as soon as Bato had the honour of holding her, trying to kick him almost immediately. "She looks just like her father," Kya had said, and Bato had to agree.
Bato was always there for them growing up. He did what he could to keep them both safe- as well as to occasionally bend the rules just a little for them. They were always enthusiastic to see him, and Bato's heart was healing. He might not have his own children, but Hakoda's children were family to him. He was there as much as he could be without stepping on their toes.
And then Kya passed, and Bato had to watch Sokka and Katara grieve, had to watch Hakoda grieve. He grieved himself too. Kya was a close friend of his, of course she was, and it was hard to watch his friend and his children mourn. He didn't think Hakoda would ever heal.
There was everything with the war too, where the kids were in near constant danger, but Bato couldn't bear to go over that right now. He had no more important things to focus on, like Sokka currently wrapped up in a pile of furs shivering and sweating out a fever. It wasn't anything serious, or anything particularly worrying; just a bad case of the flu, courtesy of Firelord Zuko, who had managed to only bring thin clothes to the Southern Water Tribe and caught the flu himself. And Sokka had tried to help as much as he could, and inevitably fell sick.
It didn't matter right now that Sokka would be okay in a few days. He was suffering right now, and Bato's chest ached. Sokka may not have been his own child, but Bato wasn't sure his heart could hurt anymore than it could right now. Bato gently pressed a wet cloth to the back of Sokka's neck, hoping to keep his fever down. Sokka groaned weakly, voice hoarse and nasally. His sinuses looked painfully inflamed, and opening his eyes looked to be a gargantuan task for him. Bato thought of the years of sickness where Sokka had to look after himself instead of having somebody to care for him, how many times he probably hid it from the tribe so he could appear strong for them. How many times Katara had to step up and take on more than a child should have to in place of Kya. Bato was always ordering Hakoda to bed whenever he was sick.
Sokka woke up slowly, barely able to lift his head or peel open his eyes. He looked weakly to Bato, reaching his hand out slowly. "Dad…"
Bato's heart clenched painfully, but he clenched his jaw and held back the tears, taking a shaky breath and painting on an awkward smile. "It's just me, not your dad," he amended, "he'll be back soon."
Sokka groaned weakly in protest, and Bato wished Hakoda could get back quicker. "You're dad number two," Sokka mumbled, "you're the fun dad…" Sokka drifted back to sleep, and Bato felt like he could cry. He didn't want to overstep with Hakoda's kids, didn't want to replace their mom.
As if on cue, Hakoda returned, sitting besides Bato and giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Bato wished his heart still didn't flutter the way it did whenever he did that. "What's wrong, Bato?" Of course Hakoda had noticed that Bato wasn't okay. 'He always does,' Bato thought, wishing it meant something significant. Maybe it never would.
"He needs his dad," Bato replied weakly, unable to bear telling him that Sokka considered him his father too, in case Hakoda felt as though Bato was overstepping.
"He has you," Hakoda said, after a heavy pause. Bato braved looking at him, but his face was unreadable. Or, perhaps it wasn't, but it had been so long since Bato had been close enough to him to pay attention to his expressions more often that perhaps Bato couldn't read him like he used to. Or, perhaps Hakoda was concealing his emotions from him. Bato couldn't decide which was worse.
"I'm not…"
"You took him ice dodging. You were there for their first steps and their first birthdays and their first everything. You were there to look after them when… Kya died." It wasn't often that Hakoda usually mentioned Kya's death, which set heavy in Bato's heart. "You're just as much as a father to my children as I am. Maybe more so." Hakoda's hand was still on Bato's shoulder, but Bato told himself not to read too much into it. It didn't stop the way his heart ached with the joy of a lifetime's yearning fulfilment. Hakoda considered Bato a father to his children, and they saw him as one too. He loved them as his own, and he was grateful to have them in his life. Bato nodded with a small smile, met with Hakoda's look of unconditional trust. Bato would never miss that face, because it stayed with him in his heart.