Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sokka sat with his head in his hands staring hard at the papers strewn atop his oak desk. He shook his head and lifted up one paper to examine it closer. This was always such a difficult decision. A few knocks on the open office door and Representative Ahanu made his way into Sokka’s office. 

“Heading out for the night?” Sokka asked, gesturing to his coworker's bags. Ahanu nodded, patting his bags. He was a good natured Northern Water Tribe man in his early 50s. Over the past two years, Sokka watched as his black hair streaked with stark white. He had a round belly and wore very traditional and ornate water tribe clothing of deep blue.

“Iara would have my head if I missed the girls’ bedtime again. They— wait—” Ahanu lifted up one of the papers from Sokka’s desk. “These are menus! You’re eating dinner here again?” 

“Yeah,” Sokka grumbled, shifting through the rest of the menus on his desk. “I mean, I always order from the Smoked Hen but… What if I’m in the mood for Fire Nation food…?” 

Ahanu sighed and leaned against Sokka’s desk. “Why don’t you just go home and eat? I don’t think you’ve taken a day off in weeks.” 

“There’s still so much we have to finalize for the festival.” Sokka said, folding the rest of the menus and putting them aside. “I think Lee is still here, I’ll have him run down to the Hen and place my order…” He pulled a string next to his desk and took out the documents he was working on beforehand.

“Sokka,” Ahanu said, gruffly dropping into the chair opposite him. “You’re overworking yourself.” 

Sokka scoffed and spread the documents over the desk and began arranging them how he had them before. Sokka tried to focus the paperwork in front of him. This wasn’t the first time this month that someone chided him for staying late, but Sokka didn’t care. Ahanu watched Sokka arrange the papers on his desk, presumably waiting for Sokka’s response. He didn’t give Ahanu the satisfaction. Sokka learned that there was nothing he could say that would convince anyone of his reasoning. He just plowed on, jotting down a few numbers here and there and scribbling a few figures on his scratch paper. 

The intern Lee popped into the office, young and bright-faced. 

“You rang, Councilman Sokka?” 

Sokka smiled at the kid. “Hi Lee. Are you going home soon?” 

Lee shook his head. “I’m here to help in any way!” 

Ahanu chuckled, his beard bristling. “No, kid, you’re going home now, like every other reasonable worker in City Hall.” 

Lee frowned, glancing back at Sokka. 

“Well, on your way home today, put in my order at the Smoked Hen, will you? Have them deliver it to my office.”

“Sure thing, Councilman!” Lee said, taking the outstretched menu from Sokka. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else from me?” 

Sokka offered a bittersweet smile. “No, Lee. Thanks for everything you’ve done today. Get home and get some rest.”

Lee nodded and scurried out of the room and back down the hallway. Ahanu rolled his eyes. He pointed at Sokka.

“Hypocrite.” 

“Don’t start,” Sokka sighed. He could feel the effects of exhaustion seep into his joints. Sokka knew he was more tired than he would let on. He had arrived at City Hall before the sun rose this morning and was staying way past sunset. He dreaded returning to that empty apartment. Ahanu sat in another silence with Sokka as Sokka became absorbed in the documents before him. Sokka wanted to swat at the pitying gaze like a fly. 

“So, what are you working on now?” 

“Allocating budget for the extra police presence for the festival,” Sokka mumbled, chewing on the end of his pen.

“Oh, so we actually got approved? Thought Beifong would never get back with us.”

Sokka clenched his jaw and shook his head. “She knows about the increase in violence in our borough. It only makes sense to send more officers.” 

“Aren’t you two close? Why did it take so long for her to get back to us?” Ahanu asked.

“I don’t know, Ahanu,” Sokka sighed, dropping a head in his hand. “I haven’t really talked to her much in the past year or so. We’re both extremely busy trying to keep the city from imploding, you know.” His stomach twisted in knots, but he worked through the discomfort. She was probably busy with her new baby, anyway. 

“I dunno, I think you’re more busy keeping the local food cart economy afloat.” Ahanu chuckled, nudging Sokka. Sokka couldn’t find it in him to crack a smile. Ahanu rolled his eyes. “C’mon Sokka. Don’t let stress take your sense of humor. How long is this budget gonna take?” 

“I don’t know… a couple of hours? I’m gonna have to shift every damn thing around. I don’t know if we really needed this many officers—” 

Ahanu shook his head. “No way, we absolutely need that many officers. You know about these weird murders. Who knows what those people are capable of. Especially at a damn festival. I don’t care if we go into debt— look here—” Ahanu set down one of his bags and took Sokka’s scratch paper. He grabbed last year’s Moon Festival’s net gain. 

“If we make half of what we made last year, it’ll cover the cost of the extra police presence. You know we’re good for that, the loan we’re getting from South Water bank is good enough—” 

“I don’t want to lean on the potential for profit, Ahanu, if we don’t make that money back, our debt triples and we won’t be good for next year’s festival. What if people are too afraid to come out because of all the violence? What then?” 

“We don’t have any other choice. If the police don’t come out, the people won’t feel protected. Besides, this is the first Moon Festival after Chief Arnook’s passing. People are going to want to celebrate together.” 

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” Sokka said, averting his gaze and looking hard back down at his paper. He prayed that Ahanu wouldn’t bring up—

“Say…weren’t you there when his daughter—”

“Yes,” Sokka said, his tone clipped. Ahanu’s expression softened. Sokka swallowed and took a deep breath. “We may be able to file a few more of the storytellers as ‘Support of Culture’ and get city money to pay for it. That’s one way of getting more money for the police presence—” 

More knocks on his open office door. “Order for Councilman Sokka?” 

Sokka grinned and stood from his desk. 

“Man, you guys are fast!” He grabbed the brown paper bag and handed the delivery boy his money with a hefty tip included. The kid beamed. 

“Enjoy your food!” He said, and headed back down the hallway. 

“Shit,” Ahanu stood, grabbing his bags up off the floor. “You tricked me into working, you sneak.” He wagged his finger at Sokka. “Iara’s really gonna lay into me when I get home.” 

“Cheers to that,” Sokka said, lifting his juice at Ahanu. 

“Look. Finish the extra police budget. Then go home, Sokka. It’s getting really sad seeing you here day in and day out. Don’t you have another life?” 

“Not since Ninuk left me,” Sokka said, busying himself with his arctic hen and wild rice dinner. He could feel the sting of Ahanu’s pitying eyes. “I’ll take tomorrow off, but that’s only so I’m fully rested before the festival.” 

“I guess that’s getting somewhere with you, isn’t it?” Ahanu chuckled. “Goodnight, Sokka.” 

“Goodnight Ahanu.” 

~*~*~

The budget took a lot longer than Sokka had planned— he kept getting distracted by memories of women and spirits. City Hall was always too quiet at night. During the day City Hall was humming with background noise. The scuffling of footsteps and the occasional laughter always helped Sokka to focus on the work before him. At night, there wasn’t anything to distract his thoughts from overtaking him. He took to muttering to himself out loud. Focus on the budget, the fucking budget right in front of him. Maybe he was a little more tired than he was aware of himself. The thought of his empty apartment was fuel enough to keep him awake. There wasn’t anything waiting for him there. There was nothing more important than serving his city. 

He wished that he could’ve gone to Air Temple Island at a time like this. He missed his sister, even if she was a nag. He loved his boisterous little nephew who hero-worshiped his Uncle Sokka and his sweet little niece who reminded Sokka so much of his own little sister. But after the birth of Tenzin, Aang had taken his family to the Southern Air Temple to celebrate the first birth of an airbender in over a hundred years. Sokka knew how important that was for Aang, so he tried to push aside what was purely selfish annoyance. He knew he was just sleepy. He knew that he just missed his sister. 

Sokka jerked awake, looking around at the darkened office. When had he fallen asleep? A paper stuck to his face, thankfully it was the scratch paper. He shook his head. The oil lamp had run out, a newborn sunrise began to chase the starlight away. How much had he managed to get done? Sokka examined the papers, scribbling the official budget allocation on a separate sheet. He knew that Ahanu would come to his office in the morning and file what he needed to get filed. So much paperwork. Sokka rubbed his eyes and conceded. Alright. Twenty-four hours at City Hall probably qualified as overworking himself. He wouldn't mind sleeping in a bed. 

He packed up his leftover dinner and shelved the hefty budget book away. He hesitated before grabbing the recent police files on the Water Tribe borough. It wasn’t technically doing work if he was just looking over reports. Maybe he’d be able to finally find the connection behind the string of murders. These murders were unlike anything Republic City had ever seen. The police didn’t seem to have any leads. They certainly never stopped by City Hall for any advice from Sokka.

Sokka headed down the street as some of the street vendors started setting up for their morning customers. A few of them waved at Sokka, who had become a regular. Sokka stopped at his favorite sweets vendor and bought a donut to enjoy as he strolled slowly back towards his apartment. The sun hadn’t broken over the horizon just yet, the streets were awash in a gentle pale blue. 

It had been nearly a year since Ninuk had broken up with him, but his apartment was saturated with rose colored memories of her. The way she talked about her day while brushing her long dark hair or the way she cooked stewed sea prunes in the late afternoon while humming to herself. She always had this gentle smile on her face that dropped to worry when she saw his expression. ‘What’s wrong?’ or ‘Are you alright?’ were the first words Ninuk would say to him after every day at work. He was never able to hide it well from her.

Sokka stopped outside of the Police Department. Lights were on inside, the one building that never officially closed. He wondered if Toph was in there right now. Sokka shoved the rest of his donut in his mouth and shook his head, continuing down the street. Toph was busy, she didn’t want to see him. She had her own shit going on, of course. She had… she had a daughter to take care of. Sokka had only met the baby once, moments after Lin was born four months ago. Ever since then, Sokka had continued to give Toph her space. He knew nothing about Lin’s father, and after a pretty thorough interrogation, he conceded that Katara didn't know anything about him either. It wasn't like Sokka was entitled to the information, but he and Toph used to tell each other everything. Nearly five years ago, before he started dating Ninuk, back in the days when he and Toph saw each other every day, Toph swore that she would never have kids. Sokka wondered who made her change her mind.

Sokka nearly gagged at the memory, forcing it out of his mind’s eye. He reservedly forced himself to think about Ninuk. Her absence was a comforting ghost. He had quickly accepted her departure and felt more comfortable romanticizing her in hypotheticals.  She was beautiful, she was kind, she was sweet— everything that Sokka should’ve wanted. He missed the space she took up in his life. He missed the warmth of her body and the love that she so graciously gave him. But Sokka couldn't give her the depth of love that he knew he was capable of. 

The walk home from City Hall was short, but just long enough to trap Sokka in his feelings. He often sped past the Police Department to avoid potentially seeing Toph or confronting any irritations within himself. He’d spent so long staring at the budget of police officers that night that he couldn’t help but to dwell on her. As much as he pushed it down daily, tonight, he found himself missing his best friend. 

Sokka finally reached his ground floor apartment, grateful to mentally change gears. The apartment was small, a kitchen and living room open space with a bedroom sectioned off by a paper wall. Sokka cracked open the front window to allow some of the breeze into his home. Sokka often used the music of the city as a lullaby. The clattering of the ostrich-horse carriages, the enthusiastic haggling of street vendors, the occasional drunk singing— all of this made Sokka feel like he was part of something bigger. It made his personal issues shrink in the scope of the city, his city. Sokka threw his bag beside his squat bed and planted himself face-first in the cotton feather mattress. He didn't feel like changing. He reserved himself to washing up in a couple hours. He couldn’t stay asleep for more than a few hours at a time anyway. Sokka drifted to sleep, the moon glowing in his mind’s eye.