Oh how I love ramble. On and on and on.

Its short I know, but its only a small glimpse. Review and let me know what you think. -dont own-

Damaged

He has always been damaged.

Ever since the day he found out who and what he was. The day he learned that he would never have a normal life filled with love and family. That he would constantly have responsibilities to the world first, and himself last.

The one time he rebelled had left him with even more pain than he started with. Waking up to discover his whole life gone, along with everyone he cared for, his history, his friends.

He was a relic, a piece of the past that no one knew of anymore. The world had changed without him throwing him in the middle of a war. Alone.

All traces of his life gone. Left with only memories.

That was the mental damage.

The pain living inside him that was so lonely and unrelenting that sometimes it suffocated him.

He would start to get a little breathless, excuse himself from whatever he was doing and step outside for some air as fast as he possibly could. Trying to get a hold of the turbulence inside him.

Then there was the physical damage.

Actually having thousands of volts go through his body and stop his heart. Leaving him with two scars that will always remind him of his failure that day.

Representing all the ways he had failed.

He would reach behind to his back and rub that spot tenderly but it would never stop the deep, bone shaking ache that never left him. He would always have that ache.

Then just throw on the guilt.

Guilt brought on by thousands of people effected by the war, some putting all of the blame on him, others not pointing fingers just taking it in stride.

Most of the time it was the silence that made him feel the sharp sting of the guilt more than the ones yelling. He wished they would all yell and scream at him. So then maybe the cries that were always ringing in his ears would be drowned out.

He would bring his hands up to his ears and try to block out the sound. Though nothing he ever did helped.

All of this pain was breaking him. Often all of the agony would hit him at once and the terribly damaged soul of the Avatar would crumble a bit.

Right now was one of those moments.

Everything was piling on him. The mental. The physical. The steady flow of pain was like water. He felt himself drowning, and sometimes he would worry that he would never reach the surface.

No matter how hard he tried to always have a happy outlook on life the pain would slowly fill up the room and he would have trouble catching his breath.

He was outside now.

Hating what these feeling did to him. He was incapacitated. Useless to everyone.

He gasped fell to his knees. All the pain filling his throat leaving no room for air.

He was at his worst.

And she always seemed to know when it happened.

She found him and helped him breathe again. She knelt down to him and pulled his chest to hers, breathing in and out, showing him the rhythm he seemed to lose so often.

"Breathe. Just breathe."

She would hold him still. Giving him all the time he needed.

Sometimes people would walk by and see them but no one bothered them, and they neither noticed nor cared.

Him trying to get a hold on life, and her reaching out to help him grasp it.

The pain would never leave completely but she knew how to make it fade.

His breathing would become more even and slowly his eyes would open from their harshly closed position.

He would see in her eyes their future ahead of them. Of all the memories they would make and all the happiness to be found.

He would see in the plains and slopes of her face all their adventures of the past. Everything they had been through to get to this point and how it changed them for the better.

It her smile he saw love…

But in her mouth he saw lust.

He would bring his lips to hers and drink in all pleasure she gave him.

Her pleasure countering his pain. Making him whole again.

Pleasure so intense that he would gasp and moan from the feeling. Almost all of his pain forgotten for now.

Being the Avatar aged him in ways that only few understood, but if you were to ask him he would tell you it was worth it.

All of Aang's pain was worth it to him, when he was able to feel Katara's pleasure.