Chapter Text
"Aang, are you sure you're ready?"
Katara squeezes the Avatar's hand, and he feels her eyes trailing the wrinkles etched on his face by time, his tattoos as bold as ever and the only thing that remains of his youth. He lets out a slow breath, considering the question as it echoes through his mind. The couple sits on the edge of Air Temple Island, the sun slipping beneath the horizon little by little. It's a beautiful and saddening sight, the dying light shining on the water and bleeding into the glow of Republic City, the vast collection of skyscrapers becoming a beacon to those around. It's where equality between benders and nonbenders rests, and Aang can't be prouder. In over 50 years he has accomplished so much, even if it's not as perfect as he'd like them to be. He still can't fathom that his time here is almost gone, but he's thankful that in the days prior he made sure to tie up any loose ends so everyone knows what to do once he's gone.
He told Zuko to keep an eye on the Fire Nation and Republic City and to carry on his legacy, despite him desperately wanting to stay around for a few more years. Zuko offered for them to share a cup of tea as the sun rose, the sweet liquid filled with Iroh's special touch despite him being long gone. Then he bid farewell to his lifelong friend, Zuko holding him arguably tighter as they hugged.
"Thank you for being such a good friend to me. I'll find you in your next life."
He told Sokka to uphold the Southern Water Tribe as Chief, and to protect the next Avatar at all costs as a member of the White Lotus. The two shared a long moment watching the moon glimmering in the sky, Sokka asking the Avatar if he'll see Yue once he crossed into the Spirit World. Truth be told, Aang wasn't sure, though he hoped he would. Aang called Appa just as the sun began to rise, holding back tears as he glanced back to his brother in-law.
"I promise I'll do my best to keep the next Avatar safe. You have my word, Aang."
He even made the trip to the swamp to see Toph, who for once in her life didn't start their conversation with a joke. As they sat inside the tree she no doubt called home, he swore he'd seen a tear slip for a moment before she forced it away. He told her that when it was time, she'd be ready to train the next Avatar in earthbending and metalbending, if they ever picked up the latter. The end of that conversation was the last of the few times she allowed him to hug her.
"I'll see you soon, Twinkle Toes. Gives me a reason to destroy you in training again."
It's a long moment before Aang looks to his wife. He smiles, and he sees the waterbender's heart shatter behind her eyes when he speaks, his voice missing the child-like wonder he had all those years ago. Yet somehow, he can tell it doesn't matter to her. He realizes in that moment just how tired he is, how his whole body aches, and it's nothing short of terrifying.
"I have to be, Katara. I don't have any other choice." He takes Katara's hands in his and squeezes them, his thumbs trailing her knuckles as his eyes meet hers, full of sadness and longing. He's going to miss this... and her.
Katara immediately begins to protest, her lower lip trembling. She can't. She can't let him go. Her entire world is crumbling in front of her and there's nothing she can do... spirits, it hurts. "No, Aang, there is another choice. We... we could do another healing session! O-or you could ask Roku for advice. Maybe he could-"
Aang squeezes his eyes shut. "Katara, please. It can't be stopped. It's best to just let run its course, you know that. My time in the iceberg did me no good. I know it's not what you want to hear, but we can't avoid the inevitable." He kisses her gently, savoring her warmth and taste. Even now, her lips are still sweet like honey, and they brush his for a moment after he pulls away. "It won't be long until we see each other again, I promise you that. You'll train the next Avatar and prepare them to navigate the world we've built."
The waterbender shakes her head vigorously, reaching up and cradling his cheek. Tears spill from her eyes as she tries to remember his face exactly as it is, down to the smallest details. The crinkle in his eyes as he smiles, the way his tattoos hug his wrinkled skin, the way his lips fit perfectly against hers. She doesn't want to forget, but her memory isn't what it used to be. "Aang, please don't leave me like this," she begs, her shoulders wracked with sobs. "I wasn't meant to outlive you... We're supposed to spend our lives together..."
Aang only hugs her, allowing her to bury her face into his robe. He tangles his fingers in her hair, the only sound around them being the ocean waves crashing against the rocks as they hold each other as tight as they can. Sorrow and grief settle in the salty air as the remnants of the sun disappear, leaving only a golden hue in its wake before it melts into the deep blue of the night. He eventually releases his grip on her, wiping his wife's tears and kissing her forehead. His eyelids are growing heavy and his body jerks as lightning surges through his veins but he pushes it aside, despite everything in him screaming to let go already. Katara holds him steady as he grits his teeth, his limbs twitching. His heart is beating impossibly slow now. Not yet, he thinks. Just one more minute. Please.
Katara watches his tattoos flicker their signature light blue color as he lets out a pained scream, and she pulls him into another hug. "It's okay, I got you," she breathes into his cloak. "It's going to be okay..." She tries to reassure herself more than him, but it doesn't work. She should have seen this, she should have known, maybe she could have done something. Maybe she could have prevented it. Now her husband is here dying in his arms and there's nothing she can do.
"I'm glad that... you were the one that found me, and I'm glad I got to spend my life with you and only you, my dear," he whispers, and Katara feels tears dripping onto her robes, one by one. Drip... drip... drip. Even talking is taking his strength, as his next inhale is almost a wheeze, bringing a cough with it. He can barely keep himself upright now, heavily leaning against the waterbender for support as if she's his lifeline. His next words break her.
"Thank you for going penguin-sledding with me all those years ago. I'll never forget it... and I won't forget you."
No, no, no... please, no...
The last of his strength leaves him and her throat dries up, knowing what's coming next. She feels his heartbeat slow and—
"AANG!"
—he slumps against Katara, hearing her whisper sweet nothings to him and cradling his lifeless body as he slips into oblivion.
At least, that's what he expects to happen.
Instead, Aang's eyes fly open and he sits up, unaware of the vehicles whizzing past him and honking at him. The sun beats down on him, an unrelenting heat that produces beads of sweat on his forehead. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, which was... odd. That shouldn't be possible. Glancing around he notices he's in Republic City, laying in the middle of a road. His palms press into the asphalt, his mind stuck on the feeling in his chest. It's like there's a heavy rock sitting on his sternum, making it hard to breathe. Each inhale burns, flames scorching his lungs, and each exhale is unbearably cold. Even though the air is warm, almost too warm, he shivers and reflexively brings his hand to his cloak, intending to clutch at the fabric. Then he stops.
His clothes feel different.
When he looks down, he's not wearing his cloak. His eyes widen instantly and he scrambles to his feet, staring down at his clothes. He's wearing the robes he was wearing when he and Zuko formed the United Republic of Nations. Furthermore, he feels... younger than he should be. There's no sluggishness to his movement, his skin is youthful and glowing, his heart is still running wild but strong. There's a vacancy on his chin, and when he reaches up to touch it, his fingers freeze. There's no stubble, no beard, nothing.
No, no no no no, this can't...
Now his ears are ringing, screeching. He's alive again, but how? Just moments ago he was struggling to breathe and died in Katara's arms. Now here he is, like nothing ever happened.
He has no time to process the gravity of it as a car barrels down the road toward him, horn blaring. Aang scans the road for his staff and snatches it before rolling to the left and dodging the car. As he stands up he can't help but catch an irritated look on the man's face.
"Get out of the street, kid!" the man shouts as he slows down. His brows are knit together, his wrinkles exaggerated. "What, are you tryna get killed? Also, your costume looks awful. Find someone else to dress up as."
Aang opens his mouth, tries to speak, but the words stick in his throat. Only a pathetic squeak passes his lips and he lowers his head, cheeks flushing a deep pink. Stepping onto the sidewalk he lets out a sigh, watching as the man drives off and mutters something under his breath. Several people have taken note of the airbender and stop to stare. One old woman in particular taps his shoulder and he turns, his gray eyes meeting her green ones.
"Excuse me, young man, but you look an awful lot like Avatar Aang," she says, her voice awestruck and full of wonder. Aang only nods, wracking his brain for a response.
"Yeah, I, uh... I hear it a lot." He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck. He feels terrible lying, but he'd rather not deal with the attention he'll no doubt attract if he reveals who he is.
The woman only smiles, taking in every detail of his clothes, oblivious to who's standing in front of her. "It's nice to see people still admire and remember him, even though he passed away a while ago."
Aang feels his blood run cold, not comprehending the words in full. "Wh- what do you mean, he passed away?"
"You didn't know?" The woman's brows furrow together in worry, her eyes gleaming with a different emotion. "He's been gone seventeen years, dearie. Word is there's a new Avatar, but no one in Republic City has seen her."
The woman then walks away, leaving a stunned Aang alone. Doing his best to recover from the news, his eyes float down to his clothes again, and he winces. He really should get out of these even if it hurts. He takes to a few shops to buy some new clothes and ends up in the closest thing to casual wear he can think of: white shirt, brown cloak fashioned with a hood, everything else black. It takes everything in him not to feel uncomfortable wearing this, but it's for the best. Pulling his hood over his arrow, he starts to walk the streets aimlessly.
It takes him a few hours of wandering the city to fully process the circumstances, and when he does he collapses in a park bench, his head buried in his hands. There's a new Avatar... but somehow he's alive too. Are the spirits planning something? That's the only explanation he can find, unless it's some sick joke. He pinches the bridge of his nose, the hustle and bustle of the city filling the silence.
In the distance, Aang hears shouting. He stands up, the noise guiding him to a man standing on what looks like a table talking through a megaphone, a small crowd of people surrounding him. Behind the man is a poster of someone. Aang tilts his head, examining the person. He's wearing a black hooded cloak, and has a mask covering his face. The airbender raises his eyebrows in surprise before stepping closer to hear the man speaking.
"Are you tired of living under the tyranny of bending? Then join the Equalists! Benders have tried to oppress us for so long, but we will fight back!"
Those words register immediately in Aang's head and his heart pounds in his chest, bile forcing its way up his throat. His head feels light, his vision beginning to blur. His knees weaken and he fumbles for something to hold onto. Spirits, he feels sick. The Equalists... the tyranny of bending. He caused this. He thought he did the right thing, but standing here now, seeing what his actions have caused... he sinks to the ground, his knees hugged tightly to his chest. He's the only one there long after everyone's left, too stunned to move even as the sun begins to set.
However, once the aftershock is gone he comes to the conclusion that if, by some stroke of luck, he's been given a second chance, then he should get to work.
No one else will be able to fix his mistakes.