Work Text:
Sokka stood guard in front of the overturned Satomobile-sled until the last of the Red Lotus was finally dragged away. Only then did he open the door and lay eyes on the new Avatar for the first time.
“Korra?”
“…Chief Sokka?”
“Yeah, kiddo.”
Finally realizing he wasn’t any of her kidnappers, the four-year-old launched herself into his arms. Sokka grunted but wrapped his arms around her, clutching her securely to his chest as she bawled into his chest.
Old memories of Sokka’s firs visit to the Souther Air Temple blinded Sokka as he tightened his grip on the sobbing child.
That had the first time Sokka saw the Avatar State, experienced what unchecked bending could do, felt what it meant for his new friend to be the Avatar.
Yet that wasn’t the most vivid memory from that day.
Nor had the room full of emaciated corpses stuck out in his mind’s eye.
What he remembered most was a little boy sobbing in front his teacher and guardian’s dead body.
For all the power the Avatar had and the terrifying things Sokka learned that day, he never forgot that the Avatar was also a scared child. Even when Aang grew up and saved the world and changed the world, he’d never stopped being the friend and eventual brother that Sokka met first.
What had Sokka said that day?
“C’mon,” Sokka said to a little sobbing Avatar for the second time in his life. “Let’s get out of here.”
Korra didn’t hear him, but that was fine. He shifted her weight in his arms as he started moving away from the Red Lotus’ vehicle and towards the rescue team sleds. In the distance, Sokka could see another team of sleds approaching. At his age, his vision could no longer make out who exactly was on those sleds, but between the frantic speed and steering of the leading sled and the Southern Tribe markings Sokka could still make out even at this distance, Sokka could take a pretty good guess as to just who was approaching.
Sokka might never have been able to bring Aang back to Monk Gyatso, but he could bring Korra back to her father.
“Alright, kiddo—” Sokka started to loosen his grip, planning to try to turn her around so she could see the sleds.
But the little girl shrieked and her arms tightened around his neck.
Sighing, Sokka re-tightened his arms lest her crying redouble. Maybe she’d cry herself out by the time her father reached them? Well, no matter; at this point, Korra was not hurt and in no more danger. With Zaheer and his cronies locked up, they couldn’t go after her anymore and Korra would be safe, now.
“Let it all out,” Sokka soothed, rubbing circles into her back while settling her onto his hip. He was getting far too old to be trusting through the snow with a child on his hip after a hard-fought battle, but he refused to put her down. Korra wouldn’t leave his arms except to return to her parents’. “I’ve got you.”
