Hello Everyone! I'm so excited to finally write for this fandom! (Avatar the Last Airbender is my favorite show of all time!)

While watching the show, I always felt that there was some off-screen moments of Aang dealing with the grief that comes with you entire nation and culture being utterly destroyed. I also felt that Sokka was like Aang's honarary big brother and that this topic needs to be explored further. This fic kind of brings these ideas of mine together.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! :)

The First Section of this is set within the first few nights of the Gaang's journey, where the trio has yet to build super strong bonds and stuff. The other section is based around the episode "The Southern Air Temple"

...

The first time Sokka heard it, he was already awake.

He was, for the first time of his life, outside the walls of the village and in foreign land. He was traveling with the Avatar- someone who he had heard stories about since he was a little kid- and his younger sister in order to help him master all four elements and- hopefully- save the world.

But it was more than just deep thoughts that was keeping Sokka awake that night. He was a thoughtful guy- no matter what Katara said- and was used to deep thoughts; it was a rather common occurrence for him to drop off in the midst of creating an elaborate plan and such.

No. He could deal with deep thoughts, it was the sense of danger that was keeping him awake.

He was traveling with the Avatar, probably the most wanted man- well, kid- alive. For all he knew, the Fire Nation could be tracking them down that very second. For all he knew, the Fire Nation could be surrounding them and preparing their attack.

He resisted the urge to get up and patrol the area.

He was the oldest, and that made him responsible for his two younger companions. He was the oldest, so he was the leader. His job was to protect them, to keep them safe, and Sokka would take this job very, very seriously.

(No matter that the Avatar was on their side and could protect everyone far better than he ever could. No matter.)

And this was a very, very important reason why Sokka could not sleep that night. Incredibly important, but, most of all, he was kept from his rest because he was uncomfortable.

Terribly, terribly uncomfortable.

The ground underneath him was scattered with small rocks and pebbles that dug into his back no matter where he turned. It was hot, burning hot, wherever they were- at least in comparison to the South Pole- and Sokka was having to deal with the sticky discomfort he had never really had to care about before: sweat. There were groups of birds all over, sitting in foreign green trees that Sokka had never seen until just a day before, singing twittering lullabies that only kept him agitated and awake.

His stomach rumbled.

And he was hungry.

It was a lot to get used too.

And so there he lay, hot, hungry, irritatingly awake, and far more uncomfortable than he could ever tolerate. It was beyond annoying, and he was just about to give up on it all and get up when he heard it.

At first he couldn't place the noise, it being too muffled for him to properly hear, but he slowly came to recognize the soft sounds of sniffling and panting and choked breath.

Crying. Someone was crying.

And it wasn't his sister. His sister, if she was upset, would make herself known. Katara wasn't one for this near silent crying; her tears usually included a whole lot of yelling and righteous anger.

But that meant… but that meant Aang was crying.

Aang, who was the happiest, brightest, most infuriatingly optimistic person who he had ever met. Aang, the crazy twelve year old kid who had turned his life upside down. Aang, who was the avatar.

Sokka stayed very, very still.

He had no idea what to do.

Briefly, Sokka considered getting up and trying to comfort the young airbender, but the awkwardness of the entire situation, as well as the idea of comforting a near stranger, kept him where he was, lying on an unzipped sleeping bag and hardly daring to breathe in fear of bringing attention to himself.

Instead, he slowly, very slowly, rolled over so that he could see Aang, who was on his own borrowed sleeping bag across the clearing.

The boy was sitting up, a hand clasped over his own mouth and eyes clenched tightly shut. He wasn't moving or making very much noise at all, and the few noises he was making were severely muffled by his palm.

His shoulders were shaking.

Sokka stared, stared some more, and then slowly rolled back over; if he wasn't going to help the kid he shouldn't be watching him.

At least, that's what he told himself.

(It had nothing to do with the fact that watching caused a terrible guilt to curl up in his stomach and claw at him from the inside out. No, not at all…)

Turning away did not stop him from listening, however.

A few minutes later, he heard Aang stand up and wander off, supposedly to Appa, based on the soft grunting he heard soon afterwards.

"Hey, buddy, mind if I sleep with ya tonight?"

Yup, definitely Appa.

"I'm fine, just a nightmare is all…"

An animalistic groan.

"Don't worry 'bout me. Everything's okay."

The air bison let out a oddly human-like huffing sound, but Aang responded only with a laugh.

A laugh that sounded oddly broken.

…

Funny how such a simple thing as a laugh could tear your heart up in two.

"I'm fine, really! Look at me," Sokka could just imagine Aang striking a dramatic pose, "I'm fine."

The boy's voice cracked.

There were several more grunts and the sound of something large and heavy shifting around. A gust of wind swept through Sokka's lose hair and he heard a few more indecipherable murmurings before everything went quiet.

He rolled over again, revealing the sight of Aang curled up on one of Appa's huge paws. The young airbender's eyes were closed, and Sokka could just make out the sight of fresh tear tracks lining his face.

He looked rather small, curled up like that. Small and far too young to save on the world.

Sokka rolled over again, closed his eyes firmly and tried again for sleep. It wasn't his problem. It wasn't. He was here for Katara. He was here to help the Avatar save the world. He wasn't there to be some kid's comforter. He wasn't.

Oddly enough, he was no longer hungry. Wonder why…

Sleep didn't find him that night, and the next morning he would get up to the sight of Aang bouncing around and laughing as he helped Katara build a fire, all remnants of tears long dried and gone and supposedly the happiest, brightest, most infuriatingly optimistic person who he had ever met.

(He could no longer quite make himself believe that that was true.)

(He wondered why.)

(And he continued to lie to himself and say that he didn't know.)

The second time he heard it he was in an abandoned Southern Air Temple.

He had been searching for Aang- the kid had totally cheated and used his bending to get a headstart- and jokingly crying out for his dinner.

(Not that he would ever actually eat the lemur; it was obvious how much Aang liked it.)

And then he saw the kid, collapsed on his knees and crying into his hands as if his very heart was shattered into a thousand pieces. Aang was hunched over himself, shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

He had stupidly thought that the young airbender was crying because he thought Sokka was going to eat his lemur.

He had never been so wrong.

Because as soon as he entered the room, if you could even called the ancient, half-falling down piece of architecture that, it became clear that that was most definitely not what the kid was crying about.

There were bones. Skeletons. Everywhere. The only remains of the once thriving Air Nation. These were the bodies of people Aang might have known. This was a room filled with so much death and torment that Sokka almost felt as if it was choking him.

And there at the front was the skeleton of a man that could only be Gyatso, the monk who Aang had spoken of with such reverence and love, an old cracked emblem of carved wood laying prominently on the center of the skeleton's chest.

He had felt sick. He had felt sick, and all those skeletons were the remains of strangers from a century ago to him. To Aang, these were the bodies of friends and family that he had played and talked with merely a month ago.

And the kid was crying, and Sokka was reaching out to comfort him, and then Aang was glowing.

And then there was a howling wind and Sokka could no longer comfort the kid because he was far too busy trying to not get blown off the mountain, and this was no longer Aang- happy, go lucky Aang who was the hyperactive twelve year old who turned his world upside down- but the Avatar; someone to be feared, someone powerful, someone who going to get them all killed.

And then Katara was there, her eyes shining with panic even as she determinedly stated that she was going to try and calm Aang down, and she was yelling, yelling to be heard over the sound of the wind, and Sokka was praying it would work.

And then it was just Aang again. Aang, not the Avatar. Aang, who looked so tired and sad and far too grieved to be any happy go lucky twelve year old. Sokka did not stand to the side this time, but instead reached out and pulled the kid into a hug.

He said nothing when his parka came away wet.

The third time he heard the sound of Aang crying, it was the night after the Southern Air Temple.

He had actually been sleeping- the elevation of the mountains had cooled the air, he had a full stomach, and there was a wonderful lack of chirping- when the noise woke him up; the sound of panicked, hitching breaths.

This time, he did not hesitate.

Sokka rubbed at his eyes and stood up, searching for the source of the noises even as he shook off the remaining grasps of sleep. He probably would have missed the kid if not for his attire. As it was, he just managed to spot the flash of bright orange behind a column.

Before he even registered it, he was halfway across the room, the semi-familiar feeling of big brother instincts activating and going into overdrive overriding all other senses.

He found himself kneeling besides the small- so small, so young- bundle of Aang, who was looking up at him with wide watery eyes and a shocked expression on his face.

The boy's expression might have been humorous if not for the tear tracks.

And Aang started to whisper hushed excuses- hand reaching up to wipe as his wet eyes and voice cracking and breaths still coming far too fast to be healthy- but Sokka ignored them, instead reaching out, grabbing him by the shoulders, and pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.

He was surprised by how quickly Aang reciprocated it, almost immediately melting into the embrace and burying his face between Sokka's neck and shoulder.

Sokka wasn't sure how long they sat there, but eventually Aang's stuttering breath slowed and evened out and the boy's shoulders stopped shaking. Eventually, the young Airbender pulled away, swiping at his eyes and smiling sheepishly up at the elder.

Sokka tried for a smile of his own, unsure as to what exactly he should say now that Aang was mainly calm.

He cleared his throat.

"Ya know, Aang, we're your family now…"

Aang nodded, silently, face scrunched up in confusion; they had already gone over this.

"And if we're family, that technically makes me your big brother, and if I'm technically your big brother, that means you're technically allowed to come hang out in my bed when you get a nightmare…"

And Aang stared at him. And stared. (And stared a little more.) But then the lightbulb seemed to flicker on in his head, and a small, tentative smile once more broke over his face.

"I think, I think I'd like that..."

And Sokka smiled as well, a real one this time, and helped the kid to his feet- even though Aang had already proven that he had no need for it- and guided him to Appa without further ado. From there, he rushed back to his prior sleeping spot and grabbed his sleeping bag, only to hurry his way back to the other.

Several minutes later found Sokka laying on Appa's back with Aang curled up under his arm and fast asleep, sleeping bag opened up and resting on top of them both. The kid had made himself into a tiny little ball, his soft breaths the only sound in the silence, and it reminded him of when he was much younger and his father had just left to fight in the war, except instead of Katara under his arm there was Aang.

Funny how that had worked out.

"Sokka?"

He almost jerked away at the sudden voice, soft and mumbled as it may have been, but resisted the urge and instead responded with a quiet, "Hmmmm?"

"Thanks…"

Sokka smiled.

"No problem."

But Aang never heard it, already lost amidst the world of dreams.

...

Tadah! The End!

Thank yo so much to everyone who took the time to read this! If you spotted any mistakes or have any ideas, I would love to know your thoughts or advice!

I hope you liked it!

- The Mashpotatoe Queen