Momo
Have you ever heard about those cats in the hospital that cuddle up to people about to die because somehow the cats just know? Well, I was thinking...
Imagine Momo following Aang around more than usual.
Imagine Momo insistently tugging Aang to Katara because she was the magic lady who made all the hurts feel better.
Imagine Momo cuddling into Aang’s robes and putting baby kisses on his head like Aang did to his kids and Momo to make them feel better.
Imagine Momo bringing Aang his favorite toys because he knew a bad thing was happening and that he wouldn’t be able to follow where Aang was gonna go.
Imagine Momo waiting by Aang’s grave because Momo had seen Aang go into the ground before and always come up afterwards.
Imagine Momo being the last survivor of the Southern Air Temple and not understanding why he felt so alone even though there were new lemurs and bison and an air-bending-human that looked so much like what he knew but also so different.
Imagine Momo wearing both a lock of Appa’s fur and a piece of Aang’s cloak around each of his wrists.
Imagine Momo, too old to fly, on Air Temple Island every day on the pier where Aang would always land his glider to greet him when he came home.
Imagine Momo, so old that he’s blind and lame, on Air Temple Island when Katara and everyone are moved out and even Tenzin is gone for the night so Momo has no one who could sense that he was about to leave where no one else could follow.
Imagine Momo struggling to breathe and feeling as lost as when he waited in the spot by the fishes in the North Pole where Aang would surely come back for him.
Imagine Momo being so scared when he hears a loud noise but can’t see what it is or move away from it.
Imagine Momo feeling something like relief when he feels baby Jinora, who had escaped from her crib to go to the little spirit she sensed was fading, plop on the ground next to him.
Imagine Momo getting as close to crying as a lemur can get when Jinora puts baby kisses on his head to make him feel better like how Tenzin did to her.
Imagine Momo cuddling into Jinora even though she was just barely bigger than him as she picks him up in her chubby little arms and waddles him to her room to give him her toys.
Imagine Momo purring for the first time in years as Jinora takes him all the way outside to the peach tree all while gently swinging him and making swooshing sounds like she was pretending he was young enough to fly again.
Imagine Momo too weak to curl up as Jinora cradles him in her lap and babbles happily about some human stuff as she shares a peach with him even though she has to hold the torn-in-half fruit right next to his face and he can just barely lick the sweet treat.
Imagine Momo somehow feeling familiar hands petting him even though it was just Jinora gently touching him.
Imagine Momo melting into Jinora’s little laughs and hanging on just enough to feel her airbend—her winds so blissfully familiar—for the first time as she struggles to make the leaves move all pretty for him.
Imagine Momo opening his eyes and being able to see for the first time in years and being greeting by Aang’s smile even though Momo was looking up at Jinora.
Imagine Momo being happy but confused as Jinora picks him up and gives him to the open hands that had been waiting so long for him.
Imagine Momo’s spirit holding onto Aang’s and Appa’s as they all three wave goodbye to baby Jinora who waves back just as a frantic Pema bursts into the courtyard looking for her and not seeing the the trio made whole again.
Imagine Momo’s spirit cherishing the feeling of being in little Jinora’s arms because it felt so much more freeing than flying.
Imagine Momo’s spirit too timid to step through the spirit portal until Korra takes his hand—so familiar—and guides him through to the physical world.
Imagine Momo’s spirit being so happy he can’t contain himself as he tries his damndest to make Jinora and the-new-Aang-but-with-hair-and-dark-skin feel as free and happy as they had always made him feel.
...but that’s just a thought.