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Aang stares down at the street below him and tries to feel something.
The celebrations have been going strong for the better part of a week now, families and friends pouring out of their homes to eat, drink, sing and dance together. Most of them had never known a world without war, and its end was something many thought they would never get a chance to see. Sounds of their excitement and relief permeate the air, floating up from the lantern-lit streets to the dark rooftop where Aang is seated. He had been escaping up here all week in between appearances, speeches, meetings with dignitaries and leaders, and everything else expected of him. He’d been trying to meditate as often as possible, but his thoughts are turbulent, unyielding as he tried to quiet them with his breath. The war is over now. He and his friends had defeated Ozai and Azula and saved the world. The danger had passed.
And yet Aang still tenses whenever a stranger enters the room. Still flinches at any touch that isn’t from his friends. Still awakens, drenched in a cold sweat, when the moon is high in the sky. And now, now that the war is over and the threat of Ozai dealt with, he can’t stop thinking about the Air Nomads. He still sees them in his dreams, faces that the world hasn’t seen for over a hundred years. He still catches himself thinking of Monk Gyatso, fantasizing about returning home to a place- a people- that don’t exist anymore. He knows he isn’t the only one who lost someone because of the war. No one in this world is a stranger to grief. But the Air Nomads, here one day and gone the next, left a rift in his heart that it seems nothing could ever fill.
The day the war ended, Aang was overcome with relief. For himself, for his friends, for the world. For a short time, it seemed like all was well, like he could handle anything. But it wasn’t long before he felt his stomach twisting into knots throughout the long days. Tears would spring to his eyes when he had been laughing just moments before. He began to retreat into himself, unable to keep up the joyful and carefree persona others had come to expect. Now, he sits cross-legged on the rooftop of the Jasmine Dragon, feeling utterly alone. He thinks of Sokka and Katara, the happiness in their eyes as they embrace their father. He thinks of Zuko and how Iroh looks at him, with pride and love so clear on his face. He thinks of Toph, estranged from her family but still rooted in the knowledge that there is still time to repair their relationships. That they still have a someday to look forward to. Aang lifts his head to the sky, searching the stars until his eyes finally land on Yue. She is watching the celebrations from above, as he is.
“I thought I might find you up here.”
Aang turns at the familiar voice, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches Katara climb onto the roof to join him. She is smiling, but her eyes betray her concern. They always do. He remains silent as she sits beside him, her hand gently coming to grasp his own. A gust of wind lifts a gentle melody up to them from where a tsungi horn plays down below.
“Hey,” she says after a few moments of silence. Her voice is gentle, just above a whisper. “Are you okay?”
The question alone is enough to make Aang’s eyes well with tears, and he shuts them harshly, turning his head slightly away from Katara. She responds with a small squeeze to his hand and waits. She always does.
“I should be.” When he finally answers, Aang’s voice is rough at the edges. He takes a deep breath. “I should be okay. We did it, didn’t we? Everything we were supposed to do. Things are better now. I- I have you now.” He steals a glance at her face, smiling slightly as he remembers their kiss on the balcony. “But… I’m not. Now that we’re not running and fighting, now that we won, I just…” he trails off, biting his lip as he turns his gaze back down to the street. “Everything is sinking in, I guess. Everything we’ve been through. Everything… I lost.”
Katara is silent for a moment, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand. Finally she leans towards him, gently resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t even begin to imagine everything you’re feeling. It’s okay to… not be okay.” She pauses for a moment, listening to his shaky breaths. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Aang’s head swirls at the question. Where to even begin? How to even explain the cavernous feeling of emptiness, the sensation of a moose-lion trying to claw its way out of his chest? He lets out a long, slow breath. “I just... miss them.”
She understands. She always does. Katara moves closer to him, wrapping her arms around his frame until he can collapse into her embrace, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Aang has never really been able to hide from her, not for long, so he lets her hold him as he crumbles. The monks had always told him the importance of letting oneself feel emotions as they occur, not suppressing them or shoving them away. But how, he wonders, how is he supposed to let himself keep feeling this way? How is he supposed to go on, to be the Avatar, to be everything that everyone is expecting him to be, with this heaviness weighing him down?
When his tears finally run dry, Aang wipes a hand across his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “You’re supposed to be enjoying the party.”
Katara scoffs. “And hear Sokka, Suki and Toph tell their over-embellished war stories to a crowd of adoring fans for the hundredth time? No thanks.” She begins to draw gentle circles on his shoulder. “I’d rather be right here with you.”
Aang sits up to meet her gaze, taking her hand in his. She looks at him with that odd mix of concern, fierceness and love that is so uniquely Katara. He suddenly remembers his lesson with Guru Pathik, back at the Eastern Air Temple. It feels so long ago, but he recalls the Guru’s voice, as clear as day: “The Air Nomads' love for you has not left this world. It is still inside of your heart, and is reborn in the form of new love.” He looks at Katara and sees the love of a Nation, reborn. He looks at her and knows that he isn’t alone, not in the slightest. And he knows that as long as they’re together, they’ll make it through anything.
They always have.