Chapter Text
Katara thinks she's over it.
Every time she travels to the Southern Water Tribe her steps stutter when she gets near the area, now a grave. Now a patch full of flowers that are protected and can bloom in the winter, now a headstone. Some reminder of what used to be. Now a memory, but what was a tent.
She always kneels. She always talks about her day and the updates from the last time she visited. She always cries. And she tries not to remember the last time she saw her mom too much as she speaks to her. Just to remember what was of her mom instead, what she would have replied with.
This time, everyone's visiting the Southern Water Tribe. There's a winter festival that they all need to participate in as it's an easy way to sneak Zuko in and make the people of the tribe at least somewhat comfortable with the new Fire Lord. And it's also a way for them to announce two relationships. One of Sokkas, one of Kataras. Two birds with one stone.
Everyone's happy. They brought Toph and Suki along. They're traveling again like how they did when they were kids, at least now they can pretend they have a little less on their shoulders.
Even if they all know they don't, sometimes a getaway is nice.
It should be fine. They haven't seen Dad in a while and Gran-gran in an even longer time. Aang's nervous about announcing their relationship although everyone will love it since he's the Avatar. Zuko's even worse.
She should feel the jitters of excitement. Or something, anxiousness at the worst.
Except… Katara feels like she's watching her body from a different perspective throughout the whole Appa ride.
Recently, it's been like a ghost following her these days. She can't stop thinking about what happened.
Her stomach is constantly bubbling, it's a nauseous feeling that she can't get rid of and it's not nerves and it's not excitement. It almost feels like dread. This feeling has been inside her for months, the guilt and desperateness, and it's clawing its way out. She knows it. She's slower to do everything. She never wants to leave her bed and most of the time when she's alone she's either crying or angry. She can't stop remembering.
She blinks and when she opens her eyes, they're paused at the grave.
Where did all the time go? And when did she start missing time?
They were just on Appa, she doesn't even remember getting off the bison and walking into the secluded nation.
Losing time isn't as frightening to her as she thought it'd be, the return to her body is the worst part. A part of her hopes that she can ease her mind back into that floaty state, so she won't have to deal with what's in front of her.
She looks around and everyone is turned away out of respect, Sokka kneeling at the grave. Katara feels sick.
Kya of the Southern Water Tribe, it reads.
She has to look away or do something to take her eyes off this horrible scene playing in front of her. But it's not going away, it hasn't gone away no matter how hard she tries.
It's like it's constantly playing in the back of her mind. It's at the top of her eyes. It's always there and each time it plays, her mothers' eyes are always staring at her.
It should've been her.
It replays in her head. The eye contact she made with that fire nation guard. The way he pushed past Katara, under the assumption that Kya was the last waterbender, left her mother's body in front of her. Scarred and burned. The silent moments in which Kataras ears rang, heat building up in her forehead and the sickness in her throat. Where it was just the two of them alone in the tent before she tried to help.
She tried shaking her.
She couldn't heal at the time and it's her biggest regret, — though everyone tells her that even if she could've, not much would have been done to help either way — she wishes she had done something more. She could only sob and shake her mother helplessly before the tent flap opened and a crowd appeared.
She's not even sure who picked her up but then she was being carried out, screaming her throat raw, as multiple other warriors came rushing inside of the tent.
The tent, now a grave.
A grave that shows love and war and everything they've lost.
Katara breathes, or tries to, and looks the other way as Sokka stands up. He's done with the routine he normally does, it's a private matter but they both usually don't mind their friends there. Sometimes they talk to Kya too.
He holds onto Kataras shoulder as a symbol of if she wants to talk, he's done.
She pushes his hand off of hers and keeps walking. She doesn't look back to know when her friends start following her.
The winter cold that she usually loves feels worse than it ever has even if dad insists its the lightest theyve had all year.
She can excuse her leaving the decoration set up early by saying she's cold, even if they all know it's not true and even if Aang gives her a worried look, and she can hide in their shared home.
Katara curls herself into the smallest ball and layers multiple blankets ontop of her as she positions herself in the corner. She shivers and closes her eyes.
She's so cold and she's so tired.
It's overwhelming.
She doesn't know whats wrong with her but her feelings and emotions are too big to be handled and she bursts into sobs. No ones there but her, it feels a little better to know she's not burdening anyone with this.
The guilt is eating her alive. Everything seems to be eating her alive.
She uselessly tries to rub her eyes but the tears dont stop coming and suddenly it's like she never had control of her body in the first place.
It feels like she's never been herself in the first place.
All of her died with mom. It died in that tent. It died when they made a headstone. It died when she didn't kill the man that killed her mother.
And she can't stop crying that it morphs into anger quickly. She's angry at herself and the tears and she almost claws her eyes out but it isn't physically possibly, so she lives with just pressing the heels of her hands deeply into her eyes.
How could she just let her own mothers murderer live? How could Kyas death go so in vain when she was the kindess person in the community? How is it fair that everytime she looks in the mirror, Kya looks back but she isn't here to live?
It's not fair that it wasn't her.
Mom had so much more life to give. She was kinder than Katara. She was beautiful and elegant and anyone who ever had the chance of meeting her always tells them how much joy she had and continuously brought to the tribe.
Everyone always thinks, below the surface of those comments, that Katara could never bring that amount of happiness.
The tribe loved her, she never once had a bad reputation. While all Katara does, in replacement of her mother, is argue with every higher up she can find. Because Katara is temperamental, she's aggressive and she's stubborn. She's everything her mom wasn't. The difference is stark.
She sobs until she wears herself out. Until she ends up staring at a wall for too long and then closes her eyes when they start to feel stiff. She floats in this horrible state of mind, where there's not an absence of time anymore, time seems to move slower. She wishes she was never born.
She wishes she never had this bending.
Eventually, she goes to sleep before Aang can come in and tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.
When she first wakes up, it's because of Aang. He talks to her about how Gran-Gran needs something and they should go but he's clearly anxious about something else entirely. His leg bounces up and down. Katara nods and she tries to get up, but she can't.
It's like these blankets have become weighted overnight, to Aang it looks like she hasn't moved.
Maybe she's still asleep. She tries again but before she knows it when she closes and then opens her eyes. She's awake for another time. She's not sure if the first one was a dream or not.
She can tell by the light peaking under the door, it's midday.
The dread from the previous day, and so much more, is back and it feels horrible. There's a weird comfort in the bed, somehow this feels like the safest place in the world. It feels like no one can take this away from her like no one can come and find her. She doesn't want to leave.
They don't need her out there, they'd be better off with someone who actually knows how to function. Not the weird thing Kataras been doing for the past months.
She moves he body slowly to face the front, she stares at the ceiling.
The overwhelming not in her stomach is twisting so hard that it's starting to cramp. She doesn't want to do anything.
She doesn't feel like she is anything.
The lighting in the room changes so that's how she knows it's been a few minutes. That's also how she knows that there are two people in front of her door. She sits up methodically and tries to be presentable for whoever is out there.
When the door opens, it's Aang and she can see Sokka's feet shuffling behind as he closes the door.
"Hey, you're up again." He smiles hesitantly and Katara nods. Aang goes to sit down next to her and he rubs her thigh, "You okay?" Her eyes feel puffy, "Fine." He raises his eyebrows. Concern, not assessing.
"Whats wrong, Katara?"
Everything. She can't say that.
There are too many factors of things that are wrong. Her mom's grave. Her mom's death. Katara being here. The fact that she doesn't even know why she's here anymore. Katara shakes her head and looks down at her hands.
"Nothing. Air-sick, I guess." It's not a good excuse, she's never been sick riding Appa. She shrugs and Aang reaches out and holds her hands in his. "Katara…" He whispers and it breaks the dam.
She sobs into his shoulder and when she tries to explain whatever is going on, whatever this is it just comes out as a mess and jumbled words. She's sure Aang can only make out some things about death and her mom. It doesn't even scratch the surface.
It's a mumble and she feels so fucking bad that she's wetting Aangs shirt that she tries to pull off. Aang has been so good to her. He's so much of a person and he's had the weight of being the Avatar since he was twelve.
Who is she to complain to him?
That isn't fair for her. It isn't fair for Aang. They— They really shouldn't even be together. She's putting enough unnecessary stress on a regular person, she doesn't want him to be bound to her.
And frowns and she thinks she said it out loud.
"What happened? Was it seeing the grave?" He whispers. Katara breathes through her nose and looks up at Aang, squeezing his hands.
Everything is wrong, humiliating, and not enough.
"Get out." She says quietly and Aang furrows his brows. The sadness-anger ball she's in is only getting worse and she doesn't want Aang to be a victim of whatever is wrong with her. She sniffles, "Aang, get out. Please. I don't want to talk anymore." She pulls her hands away and the expression on his face is horrible.
He looks so hurt but he doesn't budge. It's completely unfair. Aang will be fine, despite the horrors she's putting him through. He's happy, constantly. He's over the moon most days when she feels under. Aang will live, and that's the difference between the two, she will not.
Katara flares up, "I said go, Aang! Get out!" She squeezes her eyes shut and it's quiet for a while until the bed moves, weight from it lifting and she hears the door close quietly.
All the water in her body has dried. Her eyes feel blank now.
She doesn't even feel real.
She lays back down and tries to sleep but she can't. She stares until it's dark out.
Aang doesn't come back for the night, she knows because she's been awake since the argument. She's tried twisting and turning and doing something but it's never enough so she settles for the silence and the darkness that floods the room.
There's something wrong with her. It's something her healing can't fix. She's tried to help the memories of fellow warriors about the war, it's worked on them but she's sure it won't work on her. It can't work on her.
When Katara was healing the warriors it was different because she wasn't always in their heads, the memories they had were new and Katara felt sympathy. She can't feel that with herself.
She wants to cry, but it hurts more when she can't find the effort to.
Its been a whole day in bed.
Katara assumes Aang cant keep Sokka and her family away longer with more excuses until they figure out whats wrong because when she wakes up, or shakes out of that trance she was in that wasn't really sleep and wasn't really her being awake, it's Sokka and Hakoda infront of her.
She blinks and this time, time doesn't escape her. She wishes it did.
"What?" She sits up and they look at each other before Hakoda is sitting on the bed and Sokkas staring at her with the most pensive expression there is. It feels like an intervention, for some reason, she feels defensive.
"We are… worried. The tribe is worried about you." Dad starts and Katara takes another glance at Sokka who nods approvingly at what Hakoda is saying. They both know he isn't the best at comforting them, not when they've all been gone for so long. "You've been acting a little… off." Sokka chooses his words carefully, "And we just wanted to make sure that you were okay."
She doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to do this. Katara blinks again, and again, and again, in hopes of something changing. It doesn't. All it does is startle dad and Sokka.
"Are you okay?" Hakoda is extremely concerned and Katara feels so out of it but also too self-aware, she breathes.
"I'm fine."
Sokka frowns, "Come on, Kat'... You can tell us if something's wrong." She doesn't believe it. She doesn't. Because once she tells them what's wrong, and what has been wrong for years, they'll know she isn't as strong as they thought she is. They'll understand, like everyone else already has, that she isn't like her mother. And then they'll wish, too, that it was Katara instead.
She shakes her head, "I'm fine—I mean- really." She shuts up. Her tongue starts to get twisted and her throat burns. "It's just, didn't Aang tell you? Airsick." She makes a motion with her hands that gets cut off because before she knows it dad is hugging her.
When was the last time they hugged?
And he's holding her tight like he'll never let her go. Like he'll always protect her. Like he'll always be there for her even if someone tries to wipe out the water benders again. As if nothing she can tell him will make him think of her negatively.
She grips the front of his shirt and she can't even cry. The feeling inside of her has gotten worse, it's like everything she's ever known has sunk to the bottom and she can't bring it back up. The tears that do fall are slow, her eyes are still open and puffy. Dad rubs her back.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there." He starts, "And I am so proud of you, Katara." She sniffles and closes her eyes. Sokka reaches over and runs his fingers through her hair, it's comforting.
Their voices sound so hurt, so in pain that Katara is going through this.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Katara whispers through despair. She whispers to no one in particular, just to whoever can hear. It's a plea. To Yue, to mom, to the spirits, for someone to come fix her. She wants to know the answers so badly and she'll do anything to change whatever is going on.
Hakoda frowns and holds her tighter, "We'll figure it out."
And for once it feels like there's clarity in the storm. For once it's like she's in her body. It's like mom never died and dad never left. katara almost feels whole. It won't last, it never does, and nothing ever does, but she can imagine for a second that it will and it can.
She lets herself be held and caressed for as long as her mind will let her.
They see multiple healers.
The festival is happening in a day and Kataras missed out on all the planning. She hasn't seen anyone or anything and she's been in the same clothes she was when they got there. Eventually, she showers.
Even the healers don't know what's wrong with her.
The medicine and the aids in the tribe have gotten better since they've been there, more help and knowledge of medicine from the northern water tribe has helped them advance, but they can't come up with anything.
Some of them think it's trauma from the war, the things that they've all gone through. There's no name for it, not yet. But everyone has it. They flinch when there's a loud noise, they wake up in nightmares and sometimes they shiver at heights.
They all have their things.
So why does no one have what she has? Not everyone is crying every night. Not everyone feels like the world is moving slowly and she's even slower. They can't give her any reasons, they tell her to rest.
We'll figure it out, dad said.
She didn't believe him then, and it's starting to get proven to her now. She's helpless, she knows that. But now everyone knows it too. Katara stares at the healer as they explain to Sokka, Aang, and Hakoda what they can do to help Katara. They also tell them to report back to them if anything fundamental happens for research.
The majority of the healers, or the random gossipers in the village, whisper about hysteria. That's what they think it is. Her uncontrollable emotions get the best of her. Katara doesn't know how to tell them that their diagnosis couldn't be more off when she can't feel a thing.
They convince her to go look through the decorations for the festival and ask her opinions on trivial things. The color of the banister flags, if this food is appropriate, should Zuko speak earlier or later in the day.
She gives them random answers because she can't find it in herself to care. It doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing they do matters, nothing she does matters.
Whether the flags are light blue or turquoise, none of it will bring her mother back and none of it will bring Katara back either.
Aang floats around her. He touches her sometimes with pats on the back and shoulder bumps but it's nothing like they used to be. He tries to check in but Katara is normally too out of her body to care. Aang becomes hesitant in his touch, he doesn't know what to do and she's not giving him anything to work with.
She knows this. And she's trying to make her body move or speak but it's like banging on a glass mirror.
The cold doesn't hit her the same anymore. She shivers and she knows it's meant to be cold outside and the wind is supposed to be chilling, but her entire body is too numb to feel it.
They decide on some colors that Katara shakes her head on and then goes with food that she gives a slight smile to. Eventually, when it gets dark, Aang holds her hand and walks back to where they're staying.
Aang sits down next to her and unbraids some of the pieces in front of her face, brushing them out of the way. It's so gentle, Katara has to swallow the lump in her throat.
"I don't know how to help you." Aang blurts, honest, and Katara quiets, he runs his fingers through her hair. "But I will always be here. I'll always try. You deserve help." He whispers.
Katara looks down and he holds her face and turns it up, "I will always be here, Katara. No matter what." Their foreheads touch.
She musters up a nod and tries to think of words.
There isn't anything to describe what she's feeling. Aang is trying so hard for her, he's trying to understand when the rest of the aids have given up. She's difficult to be around, she's hurting him and everyone else, she knows. She wants to thank him, apologize, cry and tell him to move on because there's nothing that can be done to help her, but she can't.
"I'm sorry." Is all she can say.
"You don't have to be sorry." Is how he responds.
After that, it becomes different.
She goes out more, due to the amount of force being put on everyone to get her out of bed. If it was her own choice, she'd be left alone. The festival was a success, from what she heard as she stood on the sidelines the whole time.
It doesn't get better, it almost actually gets worse. But she feels inclined to keep it to herself and let everyone else think she's progressing.
During another walk with their friend group, those started happening more often and despite Toph complaining at the first one, the next one she didn't, Katara gets a wave of hurt. The same hurt that had her bedridden earlier on in the trip.
It causes a feeling of hopelessness. They're walking, she's been resting and she has an abundance of people who are actively trying to heal her. How isn't she fixed yet? How is she still feeling the same as earlier?
Then, a realization happens. A conclusion. Thoughts she's never really fully said in her head before but has substituted for different phrases.
She doesn't want to be alive.
She can't bare it anymore. She doesn't want to put everything on her friends and family, and above all of that, she doesn't think she can deal with the fact that she might be like this forever. Permanently in a different headspace, somewhere far away where she can't even act normal.
She wonders if mom, or even if Yue, is listening. Can they hear her thoughts, and would they be disappointed? Her mom doesn't know who she is, the only thing she left with was the idea of her strong daughter. She's not that anymore.
Katara already knows that Aang, and the rest of her family and friends, are probably tired of waiting. Tired of trying to help someone get better when they don't want to help themselves. But would her mom have given up already? Or would she have tried like everyone else?
Does Katara even have the right to think about whether or not her mom would try to prevent her from dying?
Her hands instinctively tighten around Aangs grip, she doesn't mean to but a sharp wave of sadness is washing over her. Drowning her. It hurts more now.
It hurts more now because she wants to get better, or try. Just for the sake that if she doesn't ever get better, there's no point in being here anymore.
She misses what everything used to be, she misses her childhood and her mom, and before she couldn't do anything. Before she couldn't get out of bed without help. She misses it all so much. And she's afraid she won't be able to go back to it.
Maybe she's too far gone.
Aang stops walking but waves everyone off to continue, trying to make whatever Kataras going through less of A Thing, for her dignity. He knows she doesn't like the concerned attention.
"You alright?" Aang whispers and Katara looks away. Aang comes closer, switching hands so that both of hers are in his. "What happened?"
She doesn't want to tell him, but she tries to remember the time when they were having another talk. One with everyone included.
If you feel worse, tell us.
"I don't know." She whispers, quietly.
Aang pulls her closer, squeezing her hands for her to tell him more.
"I just—I—" She takes a breath and another wave hits her, unexpected tears forming, "I—I can't do this anymore, Aang." It's not what she means, they both know that. It's not that she can't do it anymore, it's more that she doesn't want to do it anymore, not if it doesn't matter. She takes a heaving breath.
The breath seemed like a gateway for more intense, panicking breaths. Katara isn't sure what's happening, the breaths get more rapid and the air that was once chilling feels like it's all been sucked up. There's nothing left for her.
She can't stop it, even when she tries, and her words come out in whimpers as she tightens her hands around Aangs.
It's the second closest thing to dying she's ever felt.
And Aangs trying to pull her out of it, trying to calm her down but all his words are fading out and she can't pay attention to what he's saying.
Eventuality, she's not sure how long it's been or how short, but hands are slamming onto her shoulders and grounding her from floating into the world.
In front of her, it's Sokka gripping her shoulders with Zuko and Suki behind him.
One is talking to Aang, who she's just now getting a good look at, he looks worried. Frowns creased his face and an intense concern in his watery eyes.
Anxious, he is. His hands are frantic and Zuko is trying to tell him to calm down. He was once lively, and happy, and it's terrible knowing the concern is being caused by her.
Katara looks up at Sokka and he gives her a concerned smile, as he pulls her into a hug, "Too much? Or not enough?" He whispers.
She closes his eyes and wraps her arms around him, squeezing and he holds her closer. Not enough. He understands the quiet message, unspoken between the two of them. He breathes first.
They stay silent for a while until Kataras breathing is back to normal and he rubs her shoulder.
"I get those sometimes too." He continues quietly, "And so does Zuko, and maybe everyone else." And that sounds a bit comforting. "It's alright, Katara, we are going to help."
Suki's behind him, giving her a reassuring look, and Katara closes her eyes and tries not to throw up.
From what she remembers, or what she can hear when they whisper around her is something along the lines of planning. Medicine. Cure. Sokka and Aang working extremely close together to produce some type of remedy. She doesn't think it'll fix her, but they try anyways.
They try not to tell her about it, she knows what it really means. They all think she's so weak.
And she is. She's tried so hard to prove everyone wrong. To show everyone how much she's worth, and how much of a fight she can put up. All she's got now is the remains, a defeated fight with herself.
Everyone's getting desperate for help.
Katara thinks about what a waste her life is.