Work Text:
Aang came back to his senses and woke up into a wakeful nightmare. His body was aching from the grueling, taxing fight, but none of it measured to the heavy weight currently lowering onto his soul like a rock. His head was spinning and his heart was beating too quickly. His breaths were coming in and out too quickly, shallow and dissatisfying; but the more he focused on this, the more sickened he felt.
At his feet, laying on the ground with his wrists and ankles still bound to the surface of the rock pillar with earth, was Fire Lord Ozai. His body was still, unmoving. A hole in his chest oozed blood—the place where Aang’s bending had punctured him. His chest wasn’t rising but his eyes were still wide open, glassy rather than terrified. He wasn’t struggling to free himself. He was never going to do anything, really.
Staring, Aang took in the result of the fight and nausea flooded his senses all at once. Turning away, he bent over the edge of the pillar and collapsed to his hands and knees. He heaved until his stomach was empty and his body devoid of anything else it could possibly expel. His limbs were trembling and his hands clenched in his lap as he looked down at the faraway ground.
Fire still spread all around but Aang could do nothing but watch it numbly. He wanted to do something to help. He wanted to lay his head down and forget this day’s events. He wanted to cry but no tears came out. Everything felt so distant while the world was so very clearly pressing down on him with invisible, choking fingers.
For the first time in his life, Aang felt like he couldn’t breathe.
His head started whirling back toward the body—the body of the man he’d murdered. He had to look at him. He had to face his own actions. But he couldn’t bring himself to complete the motion. The idea of seeing Ozai’s unseeing eyes once again made a fresh wave of nausea hit him. The mental image of his broken body would live forever behind Aang’s eyelids; he knew that without a shadow of a doubt. But he couldn’t bear to see the real thing again.
In the distance, he spotted a Fire Nation airship sailing through the sky toward him. It was relatively unharmed compared to others he could see further away. But the idea of anyone finding him here—friend or foe—made his skin crawl. He could hardly face his own unforgivable deed. How was he supposed to face someone else in this state?
Ignoring his trembling legs, Aang pushed back to his feet and went to leap off the pillar. But he hesitated, eyeing the great distance between him and the ground. It was no problem. He had no fear of heights and tended to jump off tall structures all the time. Airbending made such feats more than easy. He could hop down there and cushion his fall with a puff of air, no problem.
But the idea of using airbending after going against one of the most basic things the monks had taught him revolted him. How could he use this element now? Air Nomads were airbenders. Air Nomads believed life was sacred—all life. Feeling hollow, Aang stumbled a step away from the edge and clutched at his throat lightly at the feeling of once again choking.
How could he call himself an Air Nomad after murdering someone in cold blood? Even if it was in the name of bringing peace to the world—this was wrong.
With an urgent look cast toward the closing-in airship, Aang resorted to earthbending his way straight through the stone and all the way down to the ground. Then he broke into a run—a regular run, not aided by the air—and fled the scene of his worst crime.
He just killed someone.
He won the war but effectively made sure balance could never be restored to the world. Because he’d just completed the genocide of the Air Nomads.
✧ ✧ ✧
Katara admittedly couldn’t do much for Zuko. He was going to live, she knew, but the healing she’d already performed was the best she could provide for now. So she helped him into the palace, where Fire Nation servants gawked at the prince but didn’t try to stop them. She could hear their murmurs about the Agni Kai. About Princess Azula breaking its terms before also losing. So even if these people didn’t like it, they had to concede that Zuko won.
Technically, he was the one these people had to look after now. No matter what their opinions on the matter were.
The palace was strangely empty, though. There were very few workers lurking about, most of them looking somewhere between terrified and relieved. It made Katara wonder where everyone was. Were they going to jump out of nowhere and attack her and Zuko? What had Azula planned? She’d been surprised to see Zuko showing up earlier, but maybe it was an act. Maybe she’d prepared for this scenario.
Either way, a timid-looking lady agreed to lead Katara toward the nearest room with a bed. Once there, Katara helped Zuko lie down, and then she proceeded to try and heal him for the best of her abilities. The lady hovered nearby, asking if there was anything she could do to help, her round eyes flitting between Katara and Zuko like she wasn’t even sure which one she was supposed to talk to.
Between Zuko’s pained moans and grunts, he and Katara exchanged few words. They knew that while they had completed their mission and took down Azula—who was still outside and had to be taken care of—the others were still out there. Sokka, Suki and Toph were responsible for taking down the airships but Katara had no idea how they were doing and if they were even still… um… around. And Aang…
Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to force her stomach to unwind. She had to calm down. She couldn’t allow herself to go down this lop-eared rabbit hole. Aang was going to come back and he would take down Fire Lord Ozai once and for all. She had to believe that. Because if he didn’t… if he failed…
She couldn’t even entertain the possibility.
What felt like an eternity later, the deafening sound of an approaching airship reached Katara’s ears. She perked up, tension filling her body as she already anticipated another fight. She was tired and too hysterical to fight properly, she knew. But if it was a matter of protecting Zuko from hostile firebenders, she would stand up to the challenge, even if it wiped her out completely. She couldn’t let their victory against Azula be in vain.
“Who’s inside the ship?” she asked the lady behind her.
The young woman immediately hurried toward the window overlooking the arena outside. She grimaced a little at the sight of Azula still chained out there, but quickly averted her eyes to the airship. Katara withdrew her hands away from Zuko’s chest, the water going back into its water skin. Her friend let his eyes flutter open, clearly attempting to stay alert despite his poor condition. She wanted to chide him and tell him he couldn’t fight even if there was trouble, but knew it wouldn’t matter.
Squinting, the Fire Nation lady said, “Three people are coming out. Two of them don’t appear to be from the Fire Nation. I think one of them is injured—the other two are supporting his weight. I’m not sure who they are, though.”
Katara left Zuko’s side to join the woman near the window. Peering outside, she needed less than a second to recognize her brother between Suki and Toph.
“They made it!” she called, relief flooding through her system. “Zuko, Sokka, Suki and Toph made it back! They’re okay!”
“Good. That’s good. You should—ugh—go out there. Make sure they know we’re here,” he said.
Sending a look toward the unfamiliar woman in the room, Katara decided she probably didn’t pose a threat to Zuko. She looked more afraid of him than anything. And while Katara was no expert, she assumed from the way the girl held herself and moved about that she wasn’t a bender. Surely she wouldn’t be able to harm Zuko if Katara left him for a short while.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised him, then darted out the room.
Nobody stopped her as she ran outside, back to the courtyard. Azula could be heard sniffling in the background, her gut-wrenching sobs from earlier having weakened. She was calming down from a lack of energy, but she still looked like a mess. Katara felt a little bad for her, honestly. She’d never expected to see this perpetually collected girl breaking down like this. But she didn’t have the time to focus on that right now. She had more pressing matters to attend to.
Her focus shifted to the wary figures stepping away from the airship. Toph and Suki both appeared to be mostly unharmed, but one of Sokka’s legs was elevated as he leaned heavily on his girlfriend. Still, he looked so upbeat the second he noticed Katara safely running toward them. His face practically lit up all at once and he tried to leave Suki’s side and hurry toward his sister, clearly forgetting about his injured leg. So he nearly faceplanted right in the middle of the courtyard, caught by Suki again at the last moment.
“Katara!” he called unabashedly. “You’re okay! Where’s Zuko?”
“He’s inside. Azula shot lightning at him but—”
Toph screwed up her face. “I thought he could redirect it.”
“Well, normally, yes. But she tried to shoot it at me, and—”
Her brother bristled. “She what?”
Waving her hand dismissively, Katara said, “It doesn’t matter. We beat her and Zuko is resting. We’re both safe and you’re all safe and—what happened with Fire Lord Ozai? Where is he? Did… I mean, Aang showed up, right?”
Suki exchanged a look with Sokka. “Well… he did show up. And he did defeat Ozai. But…”
“We don’t know where he is,” finished Sokka. He hopped a little on his healthy leg to get more comfortable. “We could see them fighting from afar, but we were busy taking down the airships so we couldn’t see how things went down. And by the time we made it there, Ozai was dead and Aang was gone.”
With a frown, Katara started leading them inside. “Dead? You mean Aang really… he did it?”
“We have the body on the ship,” confirmed Toph, jabbing her finger over her shoulder. “Figured we shouldn’t just leave him there. Someone should take care of that, though, ‘cause I am not touching a dead guy again.”
Come to think of it, she did look pale. Her undeterred demeanor was cracking, showing signs of distress. And Katara couldn’t blame her—as aware as she was about what had to be done to finish this war, the idea of someone’s dead body being left behind for them to take care of was… unsettling, to say the least. She was glad she didn’t have to be the one to get it into the airship. And Toph was even younger than her. Even if she couldn’t see the body, she could still most likely feel the stillness of it.
God, she was Aang’s age. She was Aang’s age, much less opposed to killing, and still looked a little nauseous at the mention of the dead man.
“I’m sure Aang will come back soon enough,” said Katara as she cast a look toward the darkening sky. “He just needs some time for himself after… everything. That’s it. He’ll be back here in no time. As long as he wasn’t injured too badly—”
“He ran away pretty quickly,” said Sokka. “I’d say he’s in good enough shape if he managed that. You’re right, he’s probably just going to come back here soon. Now can you take a look at my leg because it’s killing me.”
Rolling her eyes, Katara led the way toward the room where Zuko was. She still sent glances out the windows they passed by, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aang approaching. But there was no sign of him yet. Of course, he didn’t have his glider with him. And he was most likely exhausted from the confrontation with Ozai. It made sense that it would take him time to get to the capital, really.
But she still felt uneasy.
✧ ✧ ✧
The Fire Nation palace was relatively dark as Aang approached it. A few guards stood out the front, spears in hand. At the sight of a hooded person stepping closer, they assumed more defensive stances and held their weapons aloft, clearly to remind the stray that even with the old Fire Lord being gone, people couldn’t just step in uninvited.
Aang considered taking this as his cue to turn around and leave. He’s been wandering around, making his way to the Fire Nation and the capital by foot for a couple of days now. Usually, he would have been annoyed with having to walk for so long. He always preferred taking to the air and leaving the ground behind. But this time he used the time it offered him to try and gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, they were still overwhelmed by the action he’d taken to end the war.
What must have been the worst about this situation was just how happy everyone was. Everywhere Aang went, people were celebrating. Well, at least everywhere around the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Nation citizens seemed to be far less sure about the way they were supposed to feel. It was obvious they weren’t all fond of the war and they had no idea what to do with themselves now. Soldiers went back home, families reunited.
And among all of them, Aang marched on. He’d gotten rid of his pants—the only article of clothing he’d managed to preserve from his Air Nomad attire—as soon as he could. He’d exchanged them for a different pair the second he got the chance, unable to bear the thought of wearing something that belonged to a culture he’d just turned his back on. And to gain less attention, he also found himself a cloak to wear, the hood pulled over his head to hide his arrow.
Maybe he could grow his hair again and put a sash around his forehead again. This time not to hide his airbender tattoos from others but from himself.
But there was still nothing hiding the marks beyond the hood of his cloak, so the second he looked up at the guards of the palace, the fabric shifted enough to reveal the blue marks. Suddenly the guards looked awkward and far less hostile. They must have been waiting for him—Aang had heard that his friends were inside the palace now so he wasn’t surprised to learn everyone was expecting his arrival.
He wished they’d tried to attack him. He wished they’d thrown him in jail for… for something. He’d murdered their previous Fire Lord. That was a good enough reason, wasn’t it? Except that apparently the world didn’t mind the Avatar killing people, because the Avatar could do no wrong if he was acting in the name of peace and balance.
It was ironic—the entire world seemed to feel more balanced, but Aang had never felt more unbalanced in his entire life.
“Avatar,” one of the guards said, dumbstruck. “You—you’re finally here!”
The one to his left quickly added, “Prince Zuko asked that you went to see him the moment you arrived—”
“I’m going to sleep,” Aang cut in, already walking past the guards and into the grand building.
“But… but the prince’s orders were explicit. He demanded to be woken up. If he heard we saw you and didn’t obey—” the first one tried to argue.
“Well, just don’t tell him you saw me,” snapped Aang. He shot them a look over his shoulder and grumbled. “Say I snuck in through a window. Say you had no idea I was here. Make something up—I don’t care. But I’m going to sleep.”
They looked awkwardly at each other, obviously uncomfortable with this turn of events. But in the end one of them broke apart from the group and approached Aang with a bow of respect—the same bow Ms. Kwan had taught him at that Fire Nation school he’d attended what seemed like a lifetime ago. The guy looked like he couldn’t be older than twenty. With a little goatee and warm eyes that stared at Aang with a mixture of trepidation and respect.
“At least let me show you to your quarters, Avatar,” the guard said.
“Okay.” The boy wiped some sweat off his face with the back of his hand, then remembered to mumble, “Thanks.”
They walked side by side, with the Fire Nation guard perhaps half a step ahead of Aang. His movements were all jerky and his eyes kept on very obviously glancing at Aang, like he couldn’t help himself. The boy tried to ignore it, too tired to deal with people right now. He was uncomfortably hot, his feet were killing him, his body weighed a ton and he wanted to collapse and sleep for an eternity or two. He had no patience for people he didn’t know and who didn’t know him.
Fortunately, the guard seemed to be too nervous to actually speak to him. So apart from a hasty departure upon arriving at Aang’s assigned room—apparently—no words were exchanged between the two. Aang just entered the room—far too big, far too warm and far too comfortable for a murderer—and closed the door behind him to cut himself off from the rest of the world.
Moonlight streamed in from a nearby window, illuminating the red-tinted space. From beyond one of the walls, Aang could hear snores he distinctly recognized as Toph’s. So she was probably sleeping in the room next to his. It meant that, come morning, she would instantly realize he was back. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Taking off his cloak, he draped it over a wooden chair before slumping onto the soft mattress of the bed. It was ridiculously comfortable, exactly the type of luxury he expected a royal family to have in their home. But it only made him feel even more out of place. Because why did he deserve such nice hospitality when most killers ended up locked away forever? Why did it matter to everyone that he was the Avatar? How was this any different?
He swallowed down the nausea that once again rose in his throat. Still, he made sure there was a basket near the bed because he already knew that every time he closed his eyes, the image of the dead Ozai appeared before him and made him sick all over again. He was a guest right now—he needed to keep things clean so nobody would have to clean up after him.
Did they ‘clean up’ the body he’d left behind?
Spreading his arms and legs, Aang found himself sprawled on top of the bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling for hours, until the sun started rising back up. Sleep evaded him. His exhausted brain spiraled and spiraled out of control, and Aang was unable to shut it down.
He wished he could shut it down.
✧ ✧ ✧
Katara was elated after finally reuniting with her father. Really, she was. But she knew she looked distracted—was distracted. Because up, at the top of the stairs of the palace, stood Zuko and Aang… and the latter looked so utterly wrong.
He was wearing golden Air Nomad clothes that were especially made for him, for Zuko’s coronation. It was a sort of gesture, really. To show that the Fire Nation was trying to amend for their horrid deed against the Air Nomads a hundred years ago. But upon hearing this suggestion, Aang had flinched like someone told him he had to wear pins and needles for the ceremony. He’d accepted the idea, yes, and he was wearing the clothes. But he looked so uncomfortable up there, head bowed and eyes trained on his feet rather than acknowledging the vast crowd spread before him.
She’d always imagined the end of the war would feel more… lighthearted. Katara had assumed that with the war finally ending, she would feel at peace. She’d expected a sense of tranquility. She’d expected her head to clear of the threats and worries and anxieties the wartime had ingrained into her. But all she felt right now was concern for the boy who had brought on the end of this horrible century.
Reuniting with Aang upon his return should have been great. She’d expected him to be a little upset over the fact that he’d had to kill Ozai like they had told him. But she’d also assumed he would see the good it had brought. She’d expected him to look around and understand just how much better the world was now that the war was behind them. Thanks to him. He did a good thing.
But the first thing she saw on Aang’s face the morning they’d met again was defeat. He didn’t look relieved. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t look amused by Sokka’s lively and eccentric recount of the fight against Ozai—from his own perspective from afar. Aang just looked crushed. His gray eyes were dull, his lips tugging down. His shoulders were slumped and his body moved more slowly than it usually did. He lacked all of the grace he usually displayed.
Most of the time since then he avoided their gazes. He didn’t meet their eyes, didn’t even look up to see their faces. He just kept his head down and spoke quietly, grimacing at his own voice like he hated hearing it. And the one time Katara managed to briefly make eye contact with him, she was taken aback by how devoid they appeared to be. It was like the aftermath of losing Appa all over again, only a thousand times worse somehow.
She tried talking to him, probing endlessly to get him to talk things through with her. Because this reserved version of her friend scared her greatly. And she could see the others were just as worried as she felt. But Aang always pulled away before she could corner him. He always found one reason or another for walking away from her, for leaving her empty-handed.
Before the end of the war, she’d assumed they would finally talk things out about them once it was all behind them. And she was pretty sure Aang had been yearning for this moment. But now he was avoiding her like the plague, pulling away from her as if burnt every single time she tried to offer him some comfort.
And now Zuko was declared the new Fire Lord, the people gathered around were cheering for him and Aang, and her friend just stood up there, looking dead for the world.
“Is your friend… always like that?” asked Katara’s dad bemusedly.
“Who, Zuko?” said Sokka. “Well, usually he’s louder and angrier and—”
“No, no,” their dad cut in. “I mean the Avatar. I didn’t spend a lot of time around him before, but… he looks different somehow.”
Sokka shot Katara a grim look. She pursed her lips and brought a hand up to fiddle with her mother’s necklace.
“Well,” her brother said slowly, “no. Aang is usually more… you know. Rainbows and grins and sunshine personified. He’s been a little off ever since the end of the war, though.”
The man standing between them frowned and nodded slowly. “Perhaps now, with the war behind us, he has time to sort out everything that had happened to him. He can finally process the tragedies. There’s finally time to grieve his lost people.”
That could be it, actually. But Katara could see Sokka was as doubtful as she was. They knew their friend and knew Aang had been grappling with the death of the Air Nomads ever since they met him—give or take. Maybe he had more time to mull over it now, yes, but it didn’t quite fit. There had to be more to it than that.
Finally, Sokka muttered, “Yeah, maybe you’re right, Dad.”
At the top of the stairs, Aang finally cast a look at the gathered crowd. His face visibly turned blank as he whirled on his heel and stormed off and back into the palace without saying a word. Zuko was left to stared after him in concern, matching the look on Katara’s face.
✧ ✧ ✧
“Aang? Aang, are you listening?” Sokka asked.
Blinking dazedly, Aang asked, “Huh? What?”
Katara gave him another concerned look and Toph frowned deeply, her unseeing eyes aimed at a spot slightly to Aang’s left. He ignored the two of them in favor of looking at the Water Tribe teen, but he, too, look at Aang like he was worried about him.
“We were talking about the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko plans on removing all of them. I said we should call it the Harmony Restoration Movement. What d’you think? King Kuei likes it and I think it’s pretty straight forward.”
“Sure, yeah,” mumbled Aang. He focused on Momo and Bosco as the two fought over the green hat of the bear. “Sounds good, Sokka.”
Wrapping his arms around himself, Aang suppressed a shiver. For some reason, the palace of the Earth King was colder than he’d expected it to be. Especially compared to the humidity of the Fire Nation. He had no idea how uncomfortable the temperatures could be without airbending to make the air around him perpetually comfortable. No wonder people complained about the weather so often—it was a nightmare to deal with all of these changes.
But he refused to use airbending to assist him. Instead, he just attempted to rub his hands up and down his arms despite the fact that his skin felt like sandpaper, everything touching him grating on his senses. He felt ridiculously numb, yet every single thing that made contact with him felt so strong. It made no sense and all the sense in the world at the same time.
He was so tired. And hungry.
When was the last time he ate?
The thought of putting anything in his mouth made him queasy, though. So he was going to delay that a little bit more. Even if his head felt like it was spinning without any food to ground it. And his mouth tasted pretty bad. And he felt uncomfortably unstable on his feet.
And he was so cold.
He didn’t even realize he was moving until he found himself outside the Earth Kingdom palace, standing in front of Appa and fisting one hand in his fur to climb up to his back. What pulled him out of his own head was the familiar voice of Katara calling after him, the sound just barely registering in his head.
“Hmm?” He turned around to face her.
She had a green dress on, her brown hair freely flowing over her shoulders and down her back with a pink flower tied to the back of it. Under different circumstances, Aang knew his breath would have been knocked right out of his lungs because Katara was absolutely breathtaking right now. But while a distant part of his brain registered that fact, he couldn’t bring himself to care much. He just wanted to go away, as far away from this city, these people, all of it.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “We were going to go to Iroh’s shop after talking to the king, remember?”
Were they? Aang couldn’t recall coming to this decision for the life of him. Then again, he could hardly remember which day of the week it was, so was it really a surprise?
“Just going for a little spin,” he said, turning back around to climb Appa. “I’ll—uh—meet you there.”
“Hey, maybe I can join you,” she suggested, already moving toward the bison.
Aang shook his head vigorously. “No! I—I mean, sorry. I just… I need a moment. Alone.”
The look she gave him made his heart plummet even further down in his chest, all the way to his stomach. He wanted to apologize, to offer her a seat on Appa’s saddle so she could fly with him. But the thought of sharing this ride with anyone else—someone who didn’t realize the gravity of what he had done—made Aang physically ill. It didn’t matter that this was the girl he’d been in love with for so long. He couldn’t handle anyone right now, and that included her.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed as she took a step away from Appa and offered Aang a small smile. “All right. Just… don’t take too long, okay? We’ll wait at the shop for you before we head back to the Fire Nation.”
Okay, he wanted to say. What came out was a flat, “Yip, yip.”
And off he went, leaving the Earth Kingdom behind in favor of directing Appa back to the place he used to call home.
✧ ✧ ✧
Katara realized something was wrong when the sun set over the horizon, leaving Ba Sing Se under a veil of darkness, and Aang was still not back. They all waited for him to show up and say something about having lost track of time. They drank more tea, they exchanged stories from their childhood or from their journey together that not all of them had been present for. And they waited.
But eventually they had to go to sleep in Iroh’s place, Aang still not back.
When morning came, they expected to find him asleep nearby, having come back while they were asleep. But there was no sign of the Air Nomad and not a hint of Appa. Momo kept on flapping his wings while chattering irritably. He looked agitated the longer he was forced to stay away from Appa and Aang. And Katara couldn’t blame him—the more time went by, the more uneasy she felt.
Zuko was supposed to fly back to his homeland with Appa come morning, but without the bison, he stayed behind with the rest of them. And they all kept on sending the sky looks, searching for their friend. Sokka and Suki headed out to look for Aang or ask people around to make sure nobody had seen him. But they came up empty. Toph did her best to sense Aang’s presence but found nothing.
When Aang didn’t show the next day either, Zuko sent Mai to the Fire Palace by herself to let everyone know he was going to arrive later than anticipated. They debated staying behind without him since his nation needed him right now, but the guy refused to leave without knowing where Aang was or what happened to him.
Eventually, they packed themselves food, clothes and supplies before deciding to head out to find June. She hadn’t been able to find Aang before his fight with Ozai, true. But she was still their best bet if they wanted to try and find their friend. And while the war was over, there were still nasty people out there who would be happy to hurt the Avatar for one reason or another.
They got ostrich horses—courtesy of the concerned Earth King—and set out to find Aang. Iroh stayed behind and promised to send a message their way in case Aang returned in their absence.
It was honestly kind of frustrating. Katara was so used to traveling with Appa that she found herself disappointed at their slow pace. It was like their journey through the desert again, only this time Aang was missing right along with Appa. And they had substances and didn’t need to rely on plants that induced hallucinations.
Momo kept on flying ahead and drifting right back, clearly eager to hurry on ahead and find his friends again. Katara’s heart went out to the little lemur since she knew he most likely loved Aang—and Appa—more than the rest of them. Aang did claim the lemur as his. He played with him, he fed him, he let Momo climb all over him without batting an eye. Ever since meeting each other, they were incredibly close. And now Aang was gone and Momo was out of sorts.
During their journey, hope rekindled in Katara’s chest when they all noticed a shadow covering them, slowly growing bigger. When they looked up, they found Appa’s massive and familiar figure descending.
They all started exclaiming in relief even before the bison touched his six feet to the ground. But they fell silent the second they noticed the lack of a rider on top of Appa’s head. The saddle was empty as well. And the bison himself looked besides himself, stomping his feet like he couldn’t rest. His tail flapped violently, creating a jet of wind that blew leaves off neighboring trees, rendering them naked.
Somehow, seeing Appa like this was even worse than it would have been to not find him at all.
“Appa, where is Aang?” Katara asked urgently, reaching out to try and calm their fuzzy friend to no avail. “Where is he? Where did you guys go? Did something happen?”
“Never mind that—he can’t answer you,” said Zuko. He climbed up Appa with difficulty and said, “Take us to Aang. Just take us to him.”
Helping Toph and Suki up, Sokka muttered, “I don’t like this.”
“If he’s having fun somewhere, I swear I’m gonna make him regret all of this stress,” grumbled Toph. “I was ready for some relaxation. Now we’re right back to traveling all over the world? Twinkle Toes is probably just messing around with some moles again.”
Suki frowned. “For days?”
The earthbender shrugged, hanging on to the side of the saddle for stability.
They took off once Katara climbed aboard as well, sitting next to Sokka. Zuko took the reins, his knuckles turning white around the rope tied to Appa’s horns. She wished she could be there instead, but she figured that she was too anxious to concentrate on the direction of their flight. Not that any of them knew where they were headed. Appa just sprang right back into the air and set off in a certain direction without needing any assistance.
✧ ✧ ✧
Aang was shivering as a cool breeze chilled him to the bone. He couldn't believe Sokka and Katara had actually been willing to stay up here for so long, considering they couldn't make the air around them suitable for their body temperature like he could. But they had been able to move around. In his current state he could hardly keep his eyes open.
His gaze was locked on Monk Gyatso even as dark spots started filtering in and out of his vision. He wondered if he'd ever see him again now. Did he even want that? How disappointed would his old friend be after all of this? He'd failed everyone. He'd failed the world. He'd failed himself.
As his world grew dark, he realized he hadn't left a letter to explain his actions to his friends in case they ever found him. Well, it was just another failure to add to the list.
✧ ✧ ✧
It was one of the fastest flights Katara had ever had on top of the bison. She had the feeling he was exhausted from a long journey—especially when he had to stop a couple of times so they could all rest for the night—yet he whizzed past everything with the sort of urgency she wasn’t familiar with. He was really afraid of something—most likely related to Aang—and it made the pit in Katara’s stomach open wide.
Eventually, she started recognizing the view ahead of them. Mountains climbed upward, headed toward the heavens above. Clouds brushed against them because of how high up they were. And Appa climbed even higher. So high, in fact, that Katara figured only very specific places could possibly be his destination—one of the Air Temples. And since they had just passed by Kyoshi Island, she figured this time they were on their way to the southern one, where Aang grew up.
Did Aang come here by himself? Why? It was his home, yes, but the skeleton of Gyatso had very clearly put him on edge—enough so that he’d voiced his apprehension about returning there too soon. Especially by himself. Katara had always assumed he would ask someone to accompany him on a trip there one of these days. So why would he go back all alone?
Instead of letting them wander about—or allowing Suki and Toph to marvel at the new place they were visiting—Appa barely gave them any time to even climb off his back. The second their feet touched the ground, he started franticly herding them down a flight of stairs.
Pieces of marble littered the floor. Burn marks marred the walls and stones. Plants grew wild around here, vines covering the walls. Katara felt a sense of déjà vu as she walked on ahead, nose scrunched up in confusion as she tried to recall what had happened here. She could see Sokka pondering the same thing, his eyes roaming all around in an attempt to recall their first and only visit to the temple.
“I smell… metal,” commented Toph blandly. “But I don’t feel Aang.”
“Appa, are you sure he’s here?” asked Zuko.
The bison grunted, sounding upset.
Suddenly, Sokka caught Katara’s wrist and called, “Gyatso! Katara, that’s the place where his skeleton is. It looked different before Aang blew everything in the Avatar State, but it’s the same place, I’m sure of it. Just up ahead…”
Bile rose in her throat. “Why would he come back here?”
“To bury him properly?” her brother suggested weakly.
They kept on walking ahead. Now that Sokka pointed it out, Katara could see it. She remembered the terror she’d felt at the sight of Aang going into the Avatar State from the sheer amount of grief that had flooded his system. It had been so crazy and mortifying, she hadn’t really paid much attention to what the place looked like.
“Wait,” said Toph, her body freezing all of a sudden. “Is this…”
Her voice trailed off. When Katara glanced at her, she found her face to be greener than it usually was. There was genuine horror shining in her pale eyes as she stared ahead blankly, apparently rooted to the spot. Her mouth fell open although she made no further sounds.
“What?” asked Zuko. “What is it? What do you feel? Is it Aang?”
Swallowing thickly, the girl said, “There’s—there’s a body. Over there.” She pointed slightly to her right. “I didn’t notice it before because… well, I’m looking for heartbeats and this one has none. But I’m pretty sure it’s a person.”
“That’s probably just Gyatso’s body,” dismissed Sokka.
“No. This isn’t some old skeleton. This is more… fresh. I thought I was smelling metal, but it’s not. It’s blood. Can’t you smell it?”
Now that she mentioned it, Katara could smell blood. By the looks on their faces, she assumed the others could smell it as well.
Chittering, Momo flew up ahead of them in the direction Toph had pointed out. They couldn’t see what it was that he found, but the sound he made was unfamiliar to Katara. It was a noise of distress mixed with something almost hysterical. It was close to the way he’d sounded during Appa’s absence, but not quite.
Heart thundering in her chest, she pushed past Sokka and Zuko and ran forward. She followed Momo’s voice and rounded a corner. Facing her, from the opposite side of this trashed room, was the skeleton of the monk Aang had known a hundred years ago. Katara stared at it for a moment, wishing it to be the most gruesome sight she’d find around here today. But then she turned her head a little and her hope shattered and died.
“NO!” she cried, rushing forward.
There, resting on the floor with his limbs sprawled, was Aang. He was wearing the golden Air Nomad robes that he’d disliked so much for no apparent reason. But this time they were stained with red, especially the sleeves and his midsection. His head was tilted to the side so Gyatso would be straight ahead of him. And his eyes were open, half-lidded and glassy. Somehow they looked even more unseeing than Toph’s ones.
Red tinted the floor all around him, most of it already dry. Some of it soaked through the golden robes. Some of it mixed in with the red of the Fire Nation armor of the skeletal soldiers who also littered the floor. A few centimeters from Aang’s right hand was a small knife, coated in blood. Momo—his white fur stained red now—cuddled up against Aang’s side while still making those distressed sounds.
Crumbling down, Katara ignored the feeling of some of the blood staining her clothes in favor of reaching out to Aang. Her brain refused to accept what she was seeing, determinedly clinging to the idea that he was just ignoring her or something. He wasn’t responding because he was meditating so deeply, he wasn’t even aware of her presence there. That was it. He was fine. He was just—he was—
“Katara, what happened—oh, man!” Sokka said. “AANG!”
More shouts followed that as the rest of them filed into the room and took in the scene. She could feel their bodies crowding around, including Appa who towered over them and let out urgent noises, as if he was begging them to help—to fix this somehow.
She felt like she was back on Appa’s back, cradling the dead body of Aang after Azula’s lightning zapped him. But back then she’d had the water from the Spirit Oasis. Now she had regular water and she knew it wasn’t enough. Besides, from the looks of it, they weren’t here soon enough. How long did it take Appa to reach them once he noticed something was wrong? When did he realize something was wrong?
“I don’t understand,” said Toph roughly. “Why would he do this? We won the war. We won.”
“I knew something was wrong,” growled Zuko as he crouched on Aang’s other side, his eyes misty. “I knew it. Why didn’t I try to do something?”
Shaking her head, Suki said, “We all could see something was bugging him. I think we all just thought it would pass eventually. I never expected him to…”
Sokka kicked the bloodied knife away with disgust. “It was our fault, wasn’t it? We pushed him to do it and… and we thought he’d just get over it because it was the right thing to do. That’s it, right?”
“What are you talking about?” said Toph defensively. “We didn’t—”
“Ozai! Killing the Fire Lord!” he said, raising his voice. “Aang was so worked up over this and we all just joked about it. I knew he was upset because of it but, I mean, we needed this war to end. I figured he’d see the logic in it eventually. I didn’t think it would bother him that much. Katara, did he say anything to you before?”
She shook her head mutely. Even if she wanted to say something, the lump in her throat wouldn’t have allowed a single sound to come out. Tears streamed freely down her face as she held on to the body of her friend—cold, cold, cold—and rested her forehead against his. The scent of blood was overwhelming her senses, but she didn’t care. She just cradled him close and wept helplessly.
Across from her, Zuko mumbled, “I can’t believe it. My dad actually did it then. He’s not even alive and he still managed to complete the genocide my great-grandfather had started. He killed Aang’s spirit without even lifting a finger. Aang knew that—he knew before all of us. That’s why he’s been so…”
“There are no more Air Nomads,” realized Suki. “Without the fourth nation, there’s never going to be balance in the world again. In other words…”
Through a sob, Katara managed to choke out, “We lost.”