Work Text:
As Appa begins his descent, Aang takes a deep breath and reminds himself he sent in advance the various warning signs (and signals, and omens, and so on and so forth) which he is pretty sure everyone grows up with a vague knowledge of. Pretty sure.
Despite that, there’s no avoiding that it’s awkward to turn up kind of unannounced to Zuko and Katara’s semi-secret, rural, out-of-Republic-City dwelling to declare that yes, their child has been chosen by the mystical forces of the universe to be his Avatar apprentice and yes, they will have to leave at once to begin training. Great to see you, let's keep in touch!
It’s an awkwardness only compounded when, in the process of touching down, Appa thoroughly squashes the burgeoning vegetable patch and snaps the heaving laundry line.
“Good job, buddy,” he tells Appa all the same, giving him a thankful pat and sliding off. He doesn’t take off Appa’s saddle quite yet; he isn’t planning on hanging around. “You go and rest for a minute, okay?”
Appa ambles over to a helpfully uncovered water butt and shoves his face in happily. No one has come out to see what’s going on, so Aang takes a moment to steel himself, as well as try and kick some dirt over the decimated vegetables and fold the muddied laundry over his arm the best he can.
He’s looking about to see where to put the newly-folded sheets and things – accepting that he is very much stalling – when Zuko comes around the side of the house.
Aang has had a while to get used to the idea of seeing Zuko and Katara again. First there were the visions, then the period of sending omens as tradition requires, then various preparations before the following of the call all the way here. He’d made more of an effort to meet up again with Sokka, and Toph, and some of the old gang, in order to acclimatise to meeting up with people he's avoided seeing, or been unable to see, for a few years. It’s been a whole process.
It’s still really, really weird. Like, thrilling and amazing and so good and a relief and all of it after the years between then and now, but still. Really weird. Zuko’s taller and his hair is longer. He’s carrying a laundry basket.
Aang’s got plenty of practice being the Avatar by now, knows all the routines and habits and customs and words and signals and all of it inside out, back to front. He’s good at being the Avatar, as much as anyone can be good at balancing the universe, but in spite of all that everything he needs to say to formally kickstart the apprenticeship process still vanishes from his brain.
It’s Zuko. Right there in front of him. Katara is probably in the house or maybe around the corner. In moments they might be all together, in person, like really. Decades of Avatar training promptly out the window.
Of course, when they get their words back, they both speak at the same time. Aang opts to lift the laundry in greeting and go for a (hopefully cheery and mature) “Hey! It’s just been forever, hasn’t it?”; Zuko, sounding very taken aback, asks “Aang?”
“Oh–” says Aang, thrown off. “Yeah! That’s me. If you… remember?” There’s no way they’ve forgotten him, right? They write, sometimes, and he can’t look that different. It’s only been four years or so. He bets Toph and Sokka didn’t keep their mouths shut about meeting up, either.
“Katara!” Zuko yells back to the house, completely ignoring the question which with hindsight Aang wishes he could shove back in his mouth. He’s the Avatar and they write. They haven’t forgotten him. “Come out to the garden, Aang’s here.”
From inside the house, Katara’s voice yelps, “Aang?” and there’s the clatter of several somethings being dropped.
It’s been so long since Aang’s even heard her voice that he doesn’t have a witty comeback when Zuko asks, teasing, “Or can we only call you Avatar Aang now you’re all trained up?”
After a very extended moment, Aang says, “Just Aang’s fine.”
“I know,” Zuko says, looking concerned now. “That was a joke.”
They’re so happy to see him and he’s going to have to take their child away from them. Some consider being selected an honour, sure, and Aang loves being the Avatar, but this bit is never fun. “Oh, right, yeah. Haha.”
“Aang, is everything–?”
But before he can finish asking Katara is barrelling out of the house, bright and delighted, and throwing her arms around Aang in a hug. The hunk of laundry over his arm gets in the way of him hugging back, which is probably kind of lucky because he isn’t sure if he’d be able to let go. His nose is level with the top of her head now. Her hair tickles.
“It’s so good to see you,” she says. And then, “Zuko, what are you doing over there? Come on.”
Then Zuko’s on Aang’s other side, his arm tight around Aang’s shoulder and pulling all of them closer together, and for a moment it’s perfect. Like Aang isn’t the Avatar with Avatar duties that almost never cross over with those of bending masters and heads of state, like being the Avatar doesn’t mean he can come and go as he pleases but pretty much never stay, like it hasn’t been so many years, none of it.
But that’s not reality. Aang takes a second to stick the moment in his memory then he steps back. As much as Zuko and Katara let him anyway, which means Zuko’s arm is still mostly around him and Katara’s holding both his hands.
“We didn’t think you’d be here so soon,” Katara says, letting go to touch Aang’s cheek, eyes sparkling as her fingers brush his (media-deemed contentious) beard. “How long can you stay?”
Aang’s stomach sinks. “What do you mean? You got my signs, didn’t you?”
Zuko and Katara share a look.
“Uh, yeah, we got your signs,” Zuko says after a moment, mouth carefully flat.
“And the omens and the signals,” Katara adds.
“It’s tradition,” Aang said, only a little defensive. He doesn’t know why they’re both smiling at him about it. Okay, maybe he’d sent a few more than strictly necessary, but he’d wanted them to be prepared. “I didn’t know if you knew how to read them properly.”
Katara rolls her eyes. “Remember who you’re talking to, Aang.”
“So you know that I’ve had the visions and your child has been chosen?” he asks, which aren’t the correct formal words at all but they’re both smiling at him and he needs to get this all out and sorted and be on his way before it goes to his head. “To be my apprentice?”
“Yes, we got the message,” Zuko says, nodding. “Loud and clear.”
Aang holds in a sigh. It hadn’t been that many signals overboard. Maybe the omens were a bit much. But the selection of the Avatar’s apprentice is serious! Clearly, he thinks, either they don’t get it or neither of them are taking this seriously.
Biting the bullet, Aang says, “You do know that means I’m going to need to see this kid to be sure, but then that’s it? Training should start as early as possible so we’ll be leaving straight away. Just us. Avatar’s need space and seclusion and– and specific resources. You won’t be together again for a long time.”
He looks between Zuko and Katara’s faces, trying to read them. Are they getting it? Some of the outright joy has faded but still neither of them looks exactly upset, or even some kind of stoic acceptance of the hand fate has played them. They seem calm. Still happy, even.
Do they not love their own child enough to miss them even a little? That’s impossible. Aang loves this kid he hasn’t even met yet, just on principle – so much it had taken him way longer than it should have to figure out his dreams were actual apprentice visions and not just some weird, embarrassing subconscious longing.
“We know all that, too,” Katara says, speaking almost gently, like Aang’s the one that needs soothing. She gives his hands a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, we understand exactly everything that being an Avatar involves. It’s just that… well.” She shrugs and glances at Zuko again.
“You’re a little early,” Zuko explains.
Aang looks around them, at the garden and Appa snoozing in the sun, like that will give him any clues. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I crashing lunch?” he asks. “Nap time?”
“Well, you are almost crashing lunch,” Zuko observes.
“But definitely not nap time,” Katara says firmly. “Not yet, anyway.”
Aang usually has a very good sense for the pushes and pulls of the universe. If he’s got this one completely wrong– well. It will be funny in a few years probably. “Not yet?”
“What we’re trying to say is there isn’t any child yet,” Katara says, like Aang is being very slow. “In a few months there will be. Not sure on the exact date and time, obviously.”
Aang looks down past their clasped hands to Katara’s stomach. Does she look pregnant? Maybe. Kind of? Possibly. He’s got a fair bit of knowledge, what with being the Avatar, but he’s no midwife.
“Oh,” he says. His brain has gone blank. He’s seen their child in his visions. Like, an actual born baby. He makes a mental note to ask his past selves next meditation session if Avatars can see the future and no one thought to mention it to him. “Wow.”
“Your signs actually started turning up before we knew,” Zuko says. “Well, before I knew, anyway.”
Aang finds he can’t look Zuko in the eye, because Aang’s never heard him sound like that before: beyond happy, but also sort of stunned, and kind of terrified? It feels deeply private. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to find out you’re going to be a dad. Aang wouldn’t know. Avatars having children isn’t encouraged, but Aang’s always figured that would be one aspect he’d shirk, with the right person at the right time. So far there hasn’t been either of those.
Clearly, it’s all worked out for Zuko and Katara. Unless the baby is a mistake. Not a mistake, evidently, but unexpected? Not that it’s any of his business, anyway, other than the whole Avatar’s apprentice thing. Spirits. They’re going to be parents.
“Hey,” Katara squeezes Aang’s hands again, bringing him back to the present. “Thanks for ruining the surprise,” she says, completely sincerely.
Aang is inexplicably choked up, so he takes a moment to swallow the lump in his throat and blink his eyes clear. “You’re welcome.” It comes out croaky, so he clears his throat again. “And… late congratulations? These aren’t super normal circumstances but, whatever, I’m happy for you.”
Now he’s got that out and can look either of them in the eye, he finds Zuko and Katara have gone abruptly bright eyed and sniffly. Aang’s still got their muddied laundry hanging over his arm, so he won’t pull either of them into a hug. Again, probably for the best. He’s still got to take this baby away once it’s born.
“So,” Zuko says eventually with one definitive, final sniff, “You’ll be staying here, right? For a bit at least?” He gives Aang a shake, dangerously close to as if they’re men in some kind of a meeting, saved only by the fact he’s Zuko. Still, Aang almost says yes then and there just so he can break that bad habit as soon as possible. Is this what they teach people in Republic City? Clearly he’s been letting his Avatar duties slide there.
“Staying?” he says instead. “Ah, I don’t know. You know, with the Avatar stuff, it’s better if we’re… by ourselves. Just me and Appa. Places to go, things to sort.”
“Do you have somewhere to be right now other than here?” Katara asks.
Truthfully, he doesn’t. But this isn’t the precedent they should be setting. Zuko and Katara are some of his best friends, more than his best friends when he’s feeling honest, but they’ve tried it before, and it didn’t work. There’s a reason Aang’s found excuses to stay away again and again. Even the media, which follows them all like intense, chatty messenger hawks, can tell their paths have been diverging for a long time now.
Also, “You know I’m still going to have to take the baby away, right? And that it’s for life. Being the Avatar is going to be their life.” Aang swallows, his mouth dry as he considers Zuko’s arm around him, Katara’s hands holding his, the way they’ve both been looking at him. “Just like it’s my life.”
Zuko makes a familiar noise of frustration. “We know, Aang. And it’s– ugh, it’s okay. How many times do we have to say it?”
Aang shrugs. “A few more couldn’t hurt?”
“Stay for a bit and we will,” Katara says firmly. It’s not a request. “We can talk about all of this for longer than five minutes. Appa can get a rest, we can all be here together, and you can even keep an eye on your apprentice to be. Everyone wins.”
“I don’t know.”
“If you’re really needed somewhere else, or if you need to just go and be alone for a while to do your Avatar thing, we get it. We’re not going to stop you,” Katara continues, undeterred. “But we would love for you to stay, just for a bit.”
“We could start with lunch?” Zuko offers hopefully.
Aang can feel his resolve crumbling. It’s been so, so long. “Let’s start with lunch,” he agrees.
A tension that had been thrumming through Zuko and Katara which Aang hadn’t even noticed washes away. Katara kisses him on the cheek and her smile is as bright and clear as when she’d first seen him; Zuko’s arm around his shoulder loses any last traces of the disconcerting negotiator façade.
“Okay, actually,” Katara says, letting go of Aang’s hands with a flourish, “let’s be organised and start with you getting Appa’s saddle off. I’ll get him something to eat and you can give Zuko those sheets to put in to soak.”
Aang winces and bundles them into the basket Zuko holds out to him. “I can explain?”
“You can explain that and our vegetable patch over lunch,” says Katara. She gives Aang a small push in the direction of Appa, who’s woken instantly from his nap at the prospect of food and attention.
Zuko says loudly, on his way back to the house with his laundry basket and already sounding a little cranky, “Both of you be quick, I’m starving.”
Katara catches Aang’s eye and mimes going as slowly as possible. Smiling, Aang turns to start releasing Appa’s saddle. Probably there’s no harm in staying for just a little while.