thecapitol | I have regained my breath

Entry tags:

I have regained my breath

Who| Aang and YOU
What| He's fresh out of the arena and he's a little ball of sad.
Where| Training Center; Roof, D4 suite, and everywhere else
When| Late 11th week of the mall arena.
Warnings/Notes| Sadness, references to child death, references to fictional genocide

D4 Suite

Aang woke up being able to hear again. There was no hole in his chest, and he could breathe.

He felt dead inside.

Dying was horrible. He could feel it--his soul, the Avatar spirit battering his chest, trying to escape, but trapped. He could feel himself dying in a way he wasn't meant to, without moving on to someone else. Would the Avatar cycle have been over had they let him stay dead, or would the Avatar spirit escape again once his body rotted and split open to allow it out?

Maybe it had moved on after the darkness overtook him. Maybe, for the briefest moment, he had been a waterbender baby. And then maybe he had died in his new mother's arms.

He staggers into the common area, blankly looking around, not looking all there. His legs feel wrong. His arms feel wrong. His lungs and ears feel wrong. Everything is wrong.

The Roof

It didn't take him long to realize that the autumnal equinox had come and gone. He was 113. It had been 101 years since the Air Nomads were wiped from the earth. Here, in this place of color and strange machines, after watching people die and suffer, without even the wind to whistle in his ears and guide him, he has never felt so alone.

He goes up. He finds stairs, and he goes up until he can't go up anymore. To the roof. The wind blows around him, but it doesn't speak to him like it should. He sits on the ground, overlooking all the towering buildings, buildings full of people who had laughed as they observed his suffering.

He sits down, hugs his knees, and lets tears flow silently down his face. Nothing. His struggles had been for nothing.

Aang takes a deep breath as the wind blows away his tears, and begins to sing. Those who observed him humming on Zuko's chest as he died would recognize the melody, but none of the lyrics are translated like everything else is. That is because there aren't lyrics--he lets out noises from deep in his chest, from high in his throat, making sounds that humans can't make without practice. He's imitating the wind, with its wails and puffs and whistles and moans. The lyrics are nonsense, and yet they mean everything to Aang.

It's the wind. It's all he has left of his people now.

Everywhere

After his grieving, it hits him that he's alive. And so will everyone else be.

His face is a little blotchy, but to hell with that. He's exploring, getting lost, getting found again, wandering into random districts and finding the common area and climbing onto dummies in the training area.

He is looking for friends, old and new and potential.

He doesn't have the Air Nomads, but he has them.

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Yes, he had his friends. He had the friend that had died as he hummed one of the songs of his people against his chest.

Zuko had once thought that the most meaningful and profound experience he'd ever have with Aang was dancing with the last dragons and seeing the true meaning of Firebending. Firebending was what bound them. The war had started with the betrayal of one Firebender - his flesh and blood - by another Firebender - also his flesh and blood. Through teaching Aang Firebending, he could make up for the wrongs of the past and in seeing the dragons dance and their multi-colored fire, it meant both he and Aang could help restore balance. They could help reshape the role of the Fire Nation into a peaceful one and help bring back the true meaning of Firebending to the world, as something that could help create things and nurture life rather than causing destruction.

After that, Zuko couldn't imagine they could ever experience anything more meaningful together. He was grateful enough Aang had forgiven him and started to become his friend. He was grateful he'd been able to stand there with him in the light of fires of the last two dragons.

But he'd been wrong.

As he lay there dying, Aang, the last of the Airbenders had given him one of his people's songs. Zuko had felt it rolling against his chest and from the rhythm of it and the way it was shaped, he knew it had to be from the Air Nomads and that meant he'd given him something no Firebender had deserved for over a hundred years. He'd held him and wept for him when his own father had thrown him away and even tried to kill him.

He'd spent so many years of being tormented by Azula and battered by his father's words. He'd lost his mother. He'd lived through three years of rage and restlessness and feeling like he had done something to deserve not being loved without realizing that his uncle was right there and now that he figured it out he'd possibly hurt his uncle so badly he might not want anything to with him anymore. He'd destroyed his relationship with Mai and probably had broken her heart because he had to go do the right thing.

After all that, he had someone new who cared about him enough to cry when he was gone. Someone he'd scared and chased over and over and yet had still forgiven him anyway. No, he'd more than forgiven him him, he'd honored him by giving him something incredibly meaningful.

That was why Zuko had been all that much more terrified when Aang finally fell in the arena, hoping desperately that his friend would be revived - could be revived.

Now that he'd found him again, now that he knew for sure, he felt relief and happiness (when he was usually never happy) and so many other feelings he couldn't name. He wanted to hug him but still wasn't sure if that was quite okay and there was something else he needed to do first anyway.

So the moment he and Aang saw each other, he stood there, his whole body trembling, eyes watering, and then...

Then he bowed. He bowed because respect had to be paid first. Before anything else, before hugging or the two of them trying to go do something else to lighten their hearts try to forget the pain and fear, he had to show his respect because he needed to humble himself before what Aang had done for him during his last breaths.

"I am humbled." His voice got raspier than its usual rasp. "I am humbled by your forgiveness and friendship and I know what it meant, what you gave me when I was dying. I could tell what that was -"

And now he was weeping, without even understanding everything behind why he was doing it, because dying had been traumatizing and terrifying and watching Aang die when he could do nothing to help had been the same. And his friend - his friend that was the first since his uncle to care about him - was alive and Zuko was alive so he could show him how honored he was by his gift and the way it had given his death meaning.

Edited 2014-10-03 08:14 (UTC)

Bucky and Aang encounter each other when Aang wanders in district 9 and Bucky is in the process of using a lack of company to comfortably help himself to the contents of the fridge. It's that, or go down to restaurant on the ground floor and he doesn't want to do that because while he can't remember how to cook much himself he prefers it to dealing with large amounts of people.

The door opens and he looks up sharply, then at seeing who it is immediately abandons his quest for food in favour of approaching Aang.

He hadn't know he was out, he should have known he was out.

"Aang." metal fingers reach out, a bare brush to a small shoulder and then the hand drops back down to his side. It's the best Bucky has to give right now. Aang is alive and whole and he is glad to see it because the ghost of a small hand holding his and tears on a youthful face remain in his memory.

Aang froze when he saw Zuko, the familiar arc of his scar and the gold eyes and the ragged hair. At the bow, at the words--he hardly registered them, what they meant. He only knew that Zuko was alive and he wasn't all alone and he had friends and said friend just wouldn't shut up--

Aang let out a sob, tears springing to his eyes all over again. "You talk too much!" And then he launched himself at Zuko, doing his very best limpet impression with possibly the tightest hug in his life. He was alive. The song, his people, whatever honors he bestowed--that meant nothing right now, because Zuko was alive and that was all that mattered.

"Bucky! You're alive!" Aang didn't have nearly the restraint Bucky did. He launched himself at the man, hugging him tight around the waist before immediately reeling back again, his mouth going a mile a minute. "Sorry, sorry, I know you don't like hugs but you're alive I didn't know if we would actually come back I mean that should be impossible but it happened and are you okay you look okay I mean better than you were no offense I wasn't much better when I was hit I mean dying was never really fun but I could feel my spirit trapped in my chest and that was awful but I think I'm okay now it was horrible in there but I don't see people trying to kill us here so I guess that's good except all those people in armor that's not so good also are you okay--"

Bucky. Bucky, make him stop.

The hug surprised him but didn't shove Aang away this time, didn't flinch or react badly just -- just took a deep breath and steadied himself, watching as Aang pulled away almost immediately and began talking. And talking.

It's so fast he actually has a little trouble keeping up, his eyebrows creeping higher up to his hairline the longer it goes. Which Aang should probably notice, his brooding friend has significantly longer hair now, though the brand on his face has remained.

Finally, when he catches on to the fact Aang is not going to stop anytime soon without intervention which Bucky provides with a finger pressed briefly to his mouth and then pulled away. Two touches in the space of a minute, it's a record.

"Calm down." he says firstly, "I'm fine. You are too."

Aang shuts up at the finger, but he's still practically vibrating in place. The boy's energy could not be contained. "How can I be calm? That's the fourth time I should have died but didn't! Or, I guess, second time I actually was dead for a bit. At least in this lifetime. I should stop keeping count, that's going to make me nervous."

That isn't really information he had been planning on sharing, but his brain-to-mouth filter isn't quite up and running yet.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seemed really sick when..." When he was ushered out and one of Bucky's friends killed him as a mercy, but he doesn't want to say that.

"Second?" he queried quietly, continuing to watch Aang with mild concern at whether this sort of reaction could be considered normal after going through such an experience. "Hm. It's not a good habit."

He may not understand a lot of what Aang is talking about but he can agree on that.

Bucky nods firmly. "We are reset after death to the same physical condition we were in on first arrival." which means aside from a little minor weight loss he's completely physically fit. "You are no longer injured, correct?" he says as an example.

'New friends,' you say? Gary is on a similar mission! Sure, it's very easy to find people on the street to talk to--mostly energetic fans and the media, which he's still completely blown away by--but the other Tributes have been quieter. And if he's going to be playing in this game with them, Gary figures he ought to get to know them better! Or, at least attempt to.

His current strategy is to linger in the training area, since it has the most stimulating layout for keeping himself occupied until he finds people to talk to. And, as predicted, Gary isn't kept waiting for long; at some point he looks up from poking around a training dummy to see that there's a boy climbing on top of one further down the room. Immediately Gary is ecstatic. Such poise! He's never met someone else who can do stuff like that.

Determined to address this potential acquaintance on his own terms, Gary bounces on his feet a few times and attempts a vertical leap, landing roughly on the dummy's shoulders. Gary is a good-sized fellow, so this almost ends in disaster for the prop as it clatters and sways, but even without his abilities he is able to balance the ensemble and keep it upright.

"Hey!" Gary waves to try and get Aang's attention, still clambering the rest of the way up the dummy's back so he can stand on it properly. So graceful. "How's it going?"

After an unfortunate run in with a very cranky Peacekeeper, who had decided that he didn't like how Kankri walked and given him a black eye for his trouble, Kankri's spending a couple days mostly in the Tower and off the streets. It's not as if there aren't things for him to do indoors, but after spending so long in that enclosed mall it doesn't take long for the building to feel suffocating.

So, the roof it is. When he realizes he's not the only one who had that idea, he makes to leave, not wanting to intrude on someone else's private time, but then he recognizes Aang. The boy had been a good friend to him in the Arenas, even if they didn't have a lot of time to hang out, and so he lingers, drifting over towards Aang as he sings.

When he stops for a few moments, Kankri clears his throat. "Is it all right if I ask what that was?"

Aang has a lot of feelings. A lot of feelings. He doesn't want to keep crying, so he's just going to focus on all the other feelings, but the contrast and the trauma is making him a little manic. He bites his tongue when he realizes what he said. "Long story. If you meet someone named Azula, avoid her."

He leans against the counter, fiddling with the hem of the weird garment they've provided for him (a shirt), simultaneously expressing his discomfort with it and giving his hands something to do, somewhere to focus all the built up energy. "No. I'm not hurt. There's not a hole in my chest or anything like that. How do they do that?"

Aang is intrinsically graceful. It's just the way people are raised with airbenders--you have to step as lightly as the air, to be able to dance on sheer cliffs in windstorms, or else you'd never fly and could run the risk of falling over the edge of the mountains.

So that's why he can balance on the top of a dummy without any visible effort, blinking with a little confusion as someone else calls to him while clambering onto a different body.

But he brightens up anyway, because it's another person. He wants to talk to another person.

"I'm okay!" That's a lie. "Hi there! Who are you?"

Aang jumps when he hears a voice, driving his fingers into the concrete as though it were dirt (instead of malleable dirt, he just got scraped fingertips), and jumps to his feet to face who talked to him.

Then he relaxes. He sniffles and scrubs his face with the heels of his hands.

"It was a song. All us kids used to sing it together before we went to bed."

It's a lie that Gary doesn't catch; he's too busy trying to keep his balance on the test dummy, which he does...remarkably well, actually. Aang is not the only person here with an innate gracefulness about him. The dummy finally stops wobbling enough for Gary to straighten, beaming in equal parts happiness for the company and triumph for conquering the prop.

"Gary. Nice to meet you!" The teen briefly gauges the distance between his current position and the next dummy, decides that it's probably close enough. He leans back and forth, steadily rocking the stand as he prepares to jump. "What's your name?" This is a completely normal conversation and there is nothing weird about it at all.

Yeah, he did kinda talk too much sometimes. At least when he wasn't in full cranky mode when he communicated mostly in eye rolls and frustrated groaning.

Right now he communicated by hugging Aang back and being grateful he'd become someone that Aang wanted to hug at all. For a while, that was all he did, hug his tiny friend and think about how unfair it was that he had to deal with all this when he was so young and still had go back home for more of the same life and death struggle when they faced the Firelord.

It suddenly occurred to Zuko that while Aang had already made new friends and was sure to make more, as of right now, he was his only friend from home. Katara wouldn't be here to comfort him, or Sokka, or even Toph.

That was Aang's new family after losing his people, so he had to try his best to do what they would do for him in their place.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I got careless."

He should've been more careful to compensate for his lack of hearing, especially with the bad vision in his left eye.

Edited 2014-10-04 06:42 (UTC)

Indeed, it was climbing onto dummies that, once again, Homura found herself staring at the young boy.

"What are you doing?"

Azula. He takes that name, memorises it, files it away in his mind in case it ever becomes relevant. "I will remember." The important aspect to remember is she is responsible for harming Aang at some point in his past, which means if Bucky should across her in a combat scenario she will be a target.

"I don't know." he answers truthfully. "We come back exactly as we were when first brought here. My hair was cut before the arena, now it is long again."

As much proof as was needed that it wasn't just them fixing up their corpses and shocking them back into life but an actual reset. Not to mention some people's corpses were surely damaged beyond possible repair, like anyone who had fallen into the gears on the escalators. It's a puzzle, one Bucky can't begin to figure out, it wasn't part of his skillset.

"We both did."

Aang should have been more careful to watch Zuko's scarred side. He should have been more careful to protect his hearing. He should have been more careful about keeping medical supplies around. Getting a first aid kit the week after Zuko's death seemed like the ultimate irony.

Should have, could have, would have. Aang was just so glad his friend was alive anyway, regardless of how unnatural the process of bringing him back was.

Aang sniffled before pulling back a little to scrub his eyes with the heel of his hand and look up at his friend's face. "How are you feeling?"

Steve might object to that, considering she's fourteen. He might stop objecting once he realized that she was really, really good at killing things.

Aang's hand immediately goes to his own head. Completely smooth, without any of the patchy stubble that had been growing despite his best efforts in the arena (fun fact: knives are really hard to shave with). "But how does that..."

He shakes his head. He doesn't understand anything here. "Why wouldn't they do that for their own citizens? Why waste so much bringing us in and making us kill each other just to put us back together again?"

This absolutely normal and nothing is horrible.

"I'm Aang. Nice to meet you too!" Aang perches on his dummy's shoulders, giving the person a smile. "Are you new here? I don't think I saw you in the arena."

"Trying to get a better view of the place."

He perched on the dummy's shoulder, surveying the crowd before straightening to his feet. The dummy didn't even wobble. "It's a big place. I've never seen a bunch of these weapons before."

If she was dangerous age lost its relevance. If she attacked or meant to kill one of the people he -- he considered his, in some way, Bucky would kill her with no remorse. It rocks him a little, this conviction made by his own choice and not another's order. The point is, he knows well that children can be dangerous, they can be killers, spies and assassins all the more dangerous because they are children. The reluctance to harm minors most adults feel is a weapon in itself.

"I don't know." he says again, frowning. "These games are... more than games." Bucky steps back, further into D9's common room. It's as much an invitation as Aang will get from him to come in. "They are important to the function of Panem society."

"You should go outside, then," Homura replied, as she flipped her hair with her hand. "Unless you really want to know what all of these weapons do. Then, I suppose I could show you."

Roland happens to be in the common area, sitting on a couch, as the boy staggers out. A boy. Too many children in these damned games. He pushes the thought aside, letting his knitting sit ignored on his lap in favor of studying the look of him. The knitting itself is, like most of the rest of Roland's knitting projects, light blue, and also like most of Roland's 'projects', what exactly it is supposed to be is, ah, let's call it 'less than obvious'.

"Alright?" he offers, because where the same sight anywhere else probably wouldn't get much reaction from Roland, sharing a set of rooms with a small number of people fosters at least the illusion of intimacy. Enough fellow feeling here that Roland will ask, give the boy an opportunity to ask for help, if he wants it.

It wasn't the kind of song he could imagine on his own but when he dreamed of other places he might someday travel to, there were hollow spaces where songs should be, spaces his imagination wasn't creative enough to fill. There were landscapes his mind's eye wasn't creative enough to paint, little boxes to fill with stories he hadn't heard, and the vague outlines of people he might someday be glad to meet.

That was why he loved traveling and exploring so much at all. It was why he and Toothless always pushed so hard at the horizon. There were holes that needed to be filled and he knew the constant ache in his chest of wanderlust would never be filled if he didn't fill them.

He stood at the door of the roof, just listening, not missing the sadness and longing in the song, as if it was sung for something that was long gone. It was almost unearthly - actually it was unearthly. It wasn't just from another land, it was from another land on another world.

The universe was just that infinite and the people here wasted their ability to travel from world to world, wasted everything they could do with it.

Wordlessly, he came over and sat next to Aang, moving slowly enough that Aang would be able to see him so he wasn't surprised, but not really long enough for him to react before Hiccup slipped his arm around him in a half hug.

He knew he was a stranger, but the little bald boy had been a stranger when he'd done the same for him and he'd done it at a time he needed it most, a time he needed to be reminded there was still good in the world and that kindness could come from anywhere.

Hiccup hated seeing this, this little boy that had started his arena hugging strangers despite the risk, and who had now secluded himself somewhere to cry alone when it was over. The little boy he'd been at the beginning of the arena needed to be protected.

And a chief protected his own. He'd decided that all of the good people here were his own. Even the scared and broken people that hurt others but didn't really want to were. They were all now his own and he was sure his father would've felt the same, and if he could muster even half the compassion and courage his father'd had maybe he could make a difference.

Places like this were where he could start.

Edited 2014-10-06 01:12 (UTC)

"Is that what this place is called? Panem?"

Throughout all his excursions in the arena, few people explained what happened outside of the arena. He follows Bucky like a lost puppy, nudging the door closed behind him. "How can something so awful and violent be important to anyone's function? They're doing nothing but hurting people who didn't do anything wrong."

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Page 1 of 5

I have regained my breath

set it at whichever one makes the most sense!

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Maybe D4 after Aang finds his way back from the roof?

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"Everywhere" (read: Training Area)

roof

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That works!

The Training Center

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D4 suite

The Roof

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