So... the last chapter would have been a really good end...

But, it was definitely never intended (by me) to be "the end". These stories are all out of whack, and while it might take me much much much too long to get them out, I don't want to stop telling Taang's story.

So here's a new one, you loyal little readers you. It's short and bittersweet (I know, I know), but the inspiration bug bit me at two in the morning and wouldn't let me sleep until this was out.

So...I hope you enjoy! I'm working on more currently, so keep an eye out.

Need

"Alright, Toph. I need you," he said as he held his hand out to her. A gesture which was completely unnecessary.

Tightly, she grasped his hand with her own and gave him a small squeeze—the words "I need you, too" sat unspoken on her tongue—before grinding her heels deep into the rock beneath to steady herself. The air began to rise in a torrential spiral, as sand and dust and rocks whipped about around them, digging out the buried remains of the homes that had been forgotten for so long. Through the contact, she felt his heart beating in time with hers, his chest rising and falling with concentration and she was glad—at least then—that he couldn't feel hers race a little ahead, trying to outrun the knot building in her chest.

"I need you," he laughed out as he waved her over to his side.

Pressing her hands to his shoulders, she almost laughed at the fool he'd made of himself. She quipped her usual retort, musing at how a blind girl could manage to tie a formal tunic better than someone with perfect sight, but she helped none-the-less. The moments were closing in on them and they were sure to be late at this point—but what did it really matter? Toph turned around and brushed her hair to the side, revealing a long row of unclasped buttons she couldn't reach herself. "I need you too," she could have said. But instead, the words out of her mouth had been, "Help a girl out, would ya?"

"I need you," he whispered in the dead of night, as the crickets chirped outside the window, the owl closed in on his prey, and the lantern bugs danced and dodged each other through the air.

She could have said it then—"I need you, too"—but instead she laughed quietly, happily, and she rolled across the uncomfortably hard bed to wrap herself around his awaiting arms. As her skin pressed against his in a gentle caress and their lips sang the quiet duet that only lovers knew, she felt her need for him strong in her heart. Strong though it was, it couldn't weigh her down—it could only lift her lighter.

"I need you," he coughed violently, his lungs aching and throbbing with the pain of speaking.

Toph shushed him immediately and slid down onto the floor beside his bedroll. She brushed his long, sweat-dampened hair away from his face and traced soothing lines onto his temple. The warm bowl of soup sat at her side and she forced him—against all his will and against his very body's volition—to sit straight up so that she could hold it to his lips. He coughed violently and moaned in pain when he finally did as he tried to force the liquid down. Another cough split through his already weary chest, and Toph felt a splatter of something warm and wet splash against her shoulder; the metallic smell assured her it was more blood. Toph laid Aang back down and pressed a warm, damp towel to his forehead before nestling up to his side and burying her face into his chest to hide her own tears. She would have said it—"I need you, too, I really do"—but the words would have felt too concrete, too real, to final at that moment for her to ever pull herself back up from and they would have drowned her once and for all.

"I need you," he gasped into her neck as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

Her hand hovered above his back as he kept her crushed to him, and she couldn't figure out at that moment what she could do to console him—if she could even do anything at all. Finally, she settled for resting her palms against him and easing into the hug, even as he grasped her tighter and audible sobs wracked his body. She didn't have the words he needed to hear, and she never did seem to. So instead, she just held him as he cried in worry and anguish over his son, and she hoped that he already knew—"I need you, too, Aang." And she wondered when, "I need you" had begun to mean, "I love you."

"You know I need you, don't you?" He asked as she squeezed his hand and screamed, sweat dripping from her face. He know that that wasn't the best time or place to say it, but he needed her to know.

She only glared at him then, but inside she realized the answer her own question that had plagued her throughout the years; "need" had always meant "love". Through another wave of pain and screaming, she held it back—"I need you, too."

"I need you, Toph."

She'd heard him come in, of course, so there was no need to really acknowledge his entrance with theatrics. As he talked, she pretended to fuss with a few files and papers spread over her desk—for her review, her officers had said time and time again even after she reminded them time and time again that little pieces of paper meant absolutely nothing to her. She proceeded then, to remind him that she was a very busy woman and she couldn't simply jump at his beck and call. Of course she was the best resource in the city. But still he plead his case, and she found herself smiling faintly—it was good to see that they were on the same page, for once. She almost said it—"Good, I need you, too"—but instead she held her tongue and pushed past him in the doorway, waving after him impatiently to catch up and keep up if he wanted her help.

The ground beneath her was cold as she kneeled over the small stone memorializing his life. Her hand pressed against the rock, hoping beyond plausible hope that somehow warmth would sprout from the cold earth and everything would be alright again.

"I need you," she whispered as her tears fell and salted the earth. "I need you," she repeated as she first fell atop the grave and shook with the sadness she could find no other way to express. "I need you," she moaned desperately as she realized that no amount of dirt or stone or grass could conceal what she could see—his body, void of his soul, deep beneath her feet as though it had decided she wasn't worth waiting for. Her fingers traced the engravings ruefully as the snow began to fall against her skin, and she repeated one last time, "You have to know I need you, too."