Chapter Text
Katara had worried that Sokka might be asleep, or worse, busy with Suki, given the ungodly hour of the night, but barely a couple of seconds after knocking on his door did there come a scrambling noise followed immediately by a dull thud and muted curses. The door swung open as he rubbed his hip bone before pulling her in for a hug so tight, she was pretty sure it could be considered assault.
“Can’t—breathe—” she managed.
“Sorry, I was just…I’m glad to see you.” His eyebrows were scrunched together as he ushered her in. He looked more worn out than just one sleepless night warranted and she wondered if he had spent the entire week wracked with worry.
“How come you’re still up?” She plonked onto his bed with her legs crossed.
He shrugged, setting himself down opposite her. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”
“I actually did bring myself to sleep. And then I had nightmares. About that day.” Her voice caught in her throat and his lips quivered. “I’m sorry I said you didn’t love her.”
Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face for a second time today, but unlike Zuko, Sokka was not afraid to embrace her. She felt like a child again, small and safe in the arms of her older brother pretending he wasn’t just as scared and vulnerable as she was. He sat on his knees and held her tight, resting his chin on her head as she wrapped her arms around him.
When he choked out a croaky ‘it’s alright’ she realised that he was crying too. So they sat there, unmoving for a few minutes till all the teardrops had drained out of them.
Finally pushing him away, she roughly wiped her face with the back of her hand in between sniffles while he poured them some water. He was the first to speak.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I guess as okay as you can be.”
She offered a weak smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken off like that.”
“No, no, I didn’t listen to you. She may have been my mother too, but I can’t pretend that it was the same for me. Katara, the truth is…” He chewed his lip nervously, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at her.
“I overheard you and Toph when we were camped around Fire Fountain City,” she admitted hesitantly. They had never talked about that day either, because the conversation hadn’t been meant for her ears, but Katara was done with the walls that had built up without either of them noticing. “You said that when you think of mom, you think of me.”
He did a double take before averting his gaze again, shame written all over his face.
“Sokka”—she sighed—“sit down, please. I’m not mad.” He wordlessly complied. “Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”
“About how I let my baby sister fill in the void left behind by our mother? How I let you pick up after me for years? How could I admit that and call myself your big brother?”
He still wouldn’t look at her. Her heart ached—for both of them.
He continued, “You took on mom’s role and I turned to dad; but he was gone too often. So when the village men told me that to be a man I should focus on becoming a warrior and leave the housekeeping to the women, I took it too literally.”
“How were you supposed to know any better when none of the adults taught you?” she spoke softly. “I thought the North was the first time I had experienced misogyny only because our version of it is quieter.”
Sokka’s head hung low but he finally turned toward her, his familiar eyes inundated with regret. “I should have tried harder. We never spoke about mom, not in any meaningful way. I convinced myself that you had moved on, that you weren’t hurting anymore. But you never had me to lean on, the way I did with you.”
“That’s not true. I would have gone insane without you. I still look for you when I feel weak because I know you’ll walk to the ends of the earth if I need it. I take for granted that I’m your first priority.”
“And you always will be.” He managed an affectionate turn of the lips. “Do you want to tell me what happened with Yon Rha?”
Katara inhaled deeply. Her memory of the events still felt patchy, like she was coming out of a trance, but this is why she was here. She wanted them to return to the siblings they once were, able to talk about whatever their hearts desired.
“How much did Zuko tell you guys?”
“Just that you let him go. He insisted that the rest was for you to share, no matter how much Aang pestered him. Until Toph finally kicked his shins.”
She scowled on instinct and found herself questioning if that was the new norm for the kid she once looked up to. Shaking her head, she said, “It took us a while to find him. Zuko figured out which unit of the navy had raided us and made quick work of tracking them down.”
“That checks out. The guy is a pro at chasing people around the world by now.”
Despite everything, she giggled. It wasn’t even that good of a joke, but right now it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Sokka cracked a smile too, and for a moment they were kids again and some colour returned to her world.
Covering her mouth, she brought her focus back to their conversation. “Anyway, we ended up having to trace him back to his village. Would you believe, he lives with his mother now.” The vitriol built in her with every word she spoke. “But you know what’s great? She’s awful. I don’t think she’s loved him a day in his useless life. He even tried to bargain for his life with hers.
“He looked so…so…sad. Small. Pathetic. Not the demon who gleefully destroyed our lives. I wonder if the reason he never questioned mom’s lie is because he could never fathom his own mother doing the same for him. Not that I blame her.” She scoffed. “I thought I spared him out of pity or empathy. But I realised that it’s because I think he has the life he deserves already. I hope he never feels his mother’s affection. I hope he’s miserable till the day he finally does die.”
She had no desire to mince words and be the kind, caring Katara everyone was used to. To his credit, her brother remained quiet and there wasn’t a hint of disapproval in his features.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice was barely a whisper. “Do you still blame yourself?”
She chewed her lip. “Kinda. But I think…somehow, this helped? I’ve gone over so many ‘what ifs’ in my head over the years and I always ended up feeling helpless. I had built him up into this grand beast and he’s just…not. The Fire Nation feels a little less invincible now. I’m still scared and I’m still full of rage—I don’t know if that will ever change. But the shame has diminished.”
Relief flooded Sokka’s face and his shoulders loosened. He gave her hand a quick but firm squeeze. “Then it was worth it.”
She felt a hundred tons lighter, like she could breathe again. But she still had to ask, “Were you hoping I wouldn’t kill him?”
“Honestly, yeah. But I had a lot of time to think about it; and a whole lot of obscene lambasting from Toph to make me realise that I was being selfish. You’ll always be my baby sister, but I can’t force you to be someone you’re not. You’ve always been wise beyond your years, partially because I didn’t want to be, and I need to trust that you’ll make the right decisions for yourself.
“Like I said, mom’s death didn’t affect me the same way. I haven’t spent the past nine years wondering why it wasn’t me instead, so how can I expect you to process it the same way? I’m glad you didn’t dirty your hands because of that monster, but I would have accepted it. Eventually. We’re all going to get blood on our hands before this war is over, anyway.”
His words hung ominously in the air as Katara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She opened her mouth to tell him the whole story about the airship, then snapped it shut, the lump in her throat almost suffocating her.
“Sorry, that was…” he said sheepishly. “Forget I said that. I’m happy you’re back and I’m happy you got closure. Looks like Zuko was right.”
Warm honey-toned eyes flashed through her memory, her wrists heating up where he had gingerly touched her on their return trip. She turned her face away and sighed. “That guy…”
“Aw, come on. He’s proven himself enough, hasn’t he? He even helped us get dad back.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I think you’re right. He’s a great guy. And if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll strangle you in your sleep.”