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Chapter Text

Lightning didn’t feel like fire. It felt like ice, Katara thought. Ice that seized her body and claimed it. She couldn’t feel the impact as she fell. Only the ice. 

The ice faded, and Katara realized she was wrong. It was fire. Licking over her body, claiming her for ashes. Katara wanted to scream, but she couldn’t, her voice felt caught in a vice. It was getting harder to breathe.

She could hear someone scream her name, hear wild laughter. 

Her heart felt wrong. Katara tried to reach for it, but her arm was still stiff with aftershocks. 

Blood, going in strange pulses through her body, not the way it was supposed to. She was probably dying. She should’ve been sad about it, but at that moment, it sounded . . . peaceful. She could see her mom again. Apologize for everything, for not being strong enough. If she could just know, know that Zuko was safe . . .

Katara felt her body get jostled. A sound in her ear, desperate voice that she knew well.

She breathed out his name. It was so hard to open her eyes, but he was asking.

Zuko was above her. He didn’t look hurt. He’d won. Katara sagged in relief. Her heart stuttered again.

“Katara! I’m going to get you into water, you’re going to be okay, but you have to heal yourself!”

“H-heart. L-lightning.”

“I know, Katara, I know, I—“

She looked up through blurred vision, hunting down the wavering thing in front of her. Zuko’s hand. She took it, pulled it close to where she could feel the raw, open wound. 

“C-can’t. Rhythm. You, lightning. Z-zuko, h-heal.” 

She choked on nothing again as her heart became unsteadier, her vision began to fade.  

She thought she felt something—a touch on her forehead.

A jolt again. Katara thought she might have screamed at the pain.

But the beat was there. Katara started to fade again, until she felt the cool slide of water against her skin. Strangely, she thought she heard quacking nearby. 

Yue smiled at her. Katara smiled back. 

“Don’t worry, Katara. You’ll be okay.”

“Is it time?” She tried to look past Yue into the dark. “Mom?”

“Not yet.”

Katara shuddered. “Yue, please. I’m so tired.” 

“Do you really want to leave him behind?”

Katara closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmured. Katara felt a touch on her chest.

The first breath was agony. Katara couldn’t take a full inhale without the burning pain stopping her. She tried to claw it away, but her hand was being held back, held down.

Slowly, the cottony feeling around her head began to fade. Katara sagged against the grip around her. Other sensations began to filter in over the pain in her chest. Wet. Cold, though there was something warm at her back.

“—tara. Katara, can you hear me?”

“—uko.” Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth. “i’hurts.”

“I need to move you, is that okay?” 

She finally managed to pry open her eyes. She couldn’t see anything except for branches and leaves over her. Her voice sounded small and scared in her own ears. “Zuko? Where are you?”

“I’m right behind you. Here.”

She was suddenly unmoored. Katara splashed her free hand in panic but then Zuko was standing next to her in the water where she was floating on her back. Katara stared up at him, and he stared down at her. 

“Uh, hi,” she said weakly. “I don’t feel good.”

“Can you heal yourself anymore?”

“I—“ Katara felt her eyes blur and her vision grow dark as she reached for the part of herself that could dip into her chi to heal. She began to sink under the water. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Zuko’s hand was under her neck, lifting her back out. “I think I should get you out of here, then.”

“‘kay,” she mumbled. It was so hard to keep her eyes open, but the look on Zuko’s face told her she needed to keep trying.

“This might hurt,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”  

Katara wanted to tell him not to apologize, but then he was lifting her out of the water, and the pain hit. She could do nothing except make pathetic whimpering noises, the arm that wasn’t pressed against Zuko’s side scrambling for something to hold. 

“—urt?”

“I know it hurts, it’ll get better, okay? Hang in there.”

Katara grunted in frustration. She had wanted to know whether Zuko was hurt. 

The surface that he set her down on was soft. 

“Katara, should I . . . your clothes are all wet.”

“Y’can take ‘em off,” she mumbled. “Sokka’s not here.”

She heard Zuko snort, and forced her lips briefly up into a smile as well. The smile was taken away though, as Zuko began peeling fabric away from the raw place in the middle of her chest. She had never felt anything as horrible as this. Her heels kicked involuntarily at the blanket, like she was trying to get away. 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” she grit out. 

“I tried, Katara, I swear, I tried to stop it. I don’t know why she attacked you.”

“s’okay.” She knew she would have to give into the darkness pulling at her soon, but Katara did her best to open her eyes once more. Her vision was liquid with her tears. “Better me than you.”

“No,” Zuko hissed. He looked like he might have been on the verge of tears himself. “Katara—“

“Fight later,” she mumbled. “S-sleep now.”

“Rest, Katara. Rest.”

His apologies followed her down into unconsciousness. 

Chapter Text

Zuko stared down at Katara, like he could heal her by looking at her. The red of his blankets made her look pale by comparison—maybe because of the blood she’d lost. 

Every time he closed his eyes, Zuko could see Katara, lit up by Azula’s lightning. 

One more step. He kept trying to replay in his mind, the moment when he realized Azula wasn’t aiming at him. He had moved, diving to try and interfere.

Could he have been faster? Had he hesitated?

Just one more step, and he could have saved her. 

Katara’s breath hitched in sleep. Zuko grimaced at the raw and open skin of her chest. He wasn’t sure what kind of bandage to put on top of it, but it seems like a bad idea. When he’d placed her in the pond, she’d seemed to instinctively heal the worst of it. It was a twisted mass of scar tissue, now, in the middle of her chest. Some of it was still bloody and oozing. 

Before he’d put her in the water, Katara had gasped out for him to use lightning. Zuko had made a small amount of lightning in his palm, and pressed it against the center through the blood. He’d felt that her pulse was unsteady, so it made sense that lightning might help reset her heartbeat. He wasn’t sure whether pure panic or something else that had allowed him to finally produce lightning of his own. Had he helped? Had he made it worse? The scream Katara had let out when he’d done it would haunt his dreams. 

“Prince . . . Prince Zuko?”

He looked up, narrowing his eyes at the Fire Sage at the doorway.

“Yes?”

“We have received word of the Fi—The Phoenix King’s defeat by the Avatar.”

“I see.” Zuko took a deep breath. “So he’s dead?”

“Ah, no. At least, the report was mixed. We’re not sure whether he’s dead or captured.”

“Alright. Have you found a healer?”

“We’ve summoned one from the city hospital. The palace one had been dismissed by Princess Azula.”

“Very well. Please send a message back to the Avatar that Azula has been imprisoned.” 

Katara shifted, face scrunching up as she started to wake, and Zuko leaned protectively over her. He didn’t care if the Fire Sage was watching as he pressed his palm to her cheek. He heard the man leave. 

“You’re okay, Katara. You’re safe. I’m so sorry it hurts.”

Her blue eyes were washed out from pain. Zuko tried to smile for her, but couldn’t quite fit the expression on his face. “What do you need?” he asked.

“Water?” she croaked. 

Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes as Zuko slid his hand behind her neck, tilting her so she could drink. 

“D-do we need to leave?” she asked.

“Leave? Leave where?”

“Here.” Her face was drawn, in fear as well as pain. “Is your fa . . . the Fire Lord? He . . .”

“He’s defeated. Aang beat him.”

Katara sagged against his hold. Zuko carefully set her head back down on the pillow. He tried not to blush as he adjusted her robe to cover everything except the center of her chest. 

She craned her neck to look down. 

“I didn’t know what else to do with it,” Zuko said. “We have burn salve, but I was worried it would interfere with your healing. And then I thought about trying to put a bandage on it, but I thought it might stick, so —“

“Easy, Zuko.” Katara actually smiled. “You’re panicking. Chill out.”

“Chill out? Katara, you almost died!”

Her smile wavered a bit. “Look, I’ll be okay, I promise. And we can use the burn salve and bandages.”

“Can you heal yourself more?”

Katara grimaced as she looked down again at herself. “I might be able to do a little, but I think it will wipe me out. I should probably wait.” 

“That makes sense.” Zuko couldn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush her hair away from her face. “I’ll get the salve and bandages. Do you need anything else?”

“I feel cold,” she said. “Maybe something warm to drink?”

“Soup would be good for you right now.” Zuko took a step away and then hesitated. “You’ll be okay til I get back?”

The tight expression on Katara’s face eased as she rolled her eyes at him. “And you’ve called me a mother hen with the others, huh?”

Zuko huffed and then turned away, feeling like he was leaving behind his lungs with how hard it was to breathe in his panicked hurry. He went quickly to the infirmary, then to the kitchens. While all of the staff was gone along with the promise of fresh food, they had left a lot of dried goods behind, which would have to do. Zuko heated up a pot of water with his firebending, and made a simple soup and some of the tea he’d found in the infirmary.  

He half-expected Katara to be asleep when he returned, but her eyes were open and on him. 

The relief in her eyes made him feel like garbage. After he’d failed her so thoroughly, he didn’t deserve her gratitude. 

Chapter Text

Katara watched Zuko as he moved about the room. It was a way to distract herself from the constant pain. He didn’t look hurt—his movements were graceful as always. The way he’d fought against Azula had been brilliant. Katara had been a fool to try and intervene. 

Zuko had a frown creasing his forehead. She wanted to press her hand against it to smooth it away.

“Is this your room?” she asked.

“It was . . . yeah.”

“Oh. I guess you’ll take your da—the Fire Lord’s room, right?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone tonight, in case you need something.” Zuko glanced at her. “Katara, I don’t know if your heart’s safe.”

“Yue helped.”

His head went up, and the frown deepened. Katara watched as he approached, placing a hand on her forehead.

“Not feverish,” he muttered.

“I’m not crazy.” Katara slowly reached up and grabbed his wrist. It was frustrating, how weak her grip was. “Yue helped heal me. I saw her.”

Zuko gently removed her grasp and began the process of sitting her up against what seemed like a million pillows. “Alright,” he said agreeably, obviously humoring her. “Now, what do you want? Should I bandage your wound? I have a tea for pain. It might be smart to drink that first.”

“Yeah, that seems smart,” she agreed. 

“Here.”

Katara grimaced at the smell, and then at the taste as he tilted the cup against her lips. She managed to gulp down a few foul mouthfuls before shaking her head against more. “I see your tea-making skills are not improving,” she said to him. He didn’t seem to notice the insult, some color rising on his neck as he stared down at her body. 

“I’m going to have to . . .”

Katara could feel herself blushing, the way his hands hesitated at the edges of her robes. She raised her eyes up to the ceiling. 

“Uh huh,” she said. Her voice was a little too high for her to pretend she was unaffected. “S-sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?”

He dabbed salve onto her chest. For a while, the pain kept Katara from answering. She focused on keeping her breathing slow and regular. Zuko’s free hand rested on her shoulder, a tight grip that she tried to use as a distraction. 

“You did this for Iroh, didn’t you?” she realized.

“Yeah.” 

“I wish you’d let me heal him,” she murmured. 

“Me too,” Zuko said quietly. 

A strangled noise escaped Katara’s lips as he touched a particularly raw part of her chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zuko breathed. “Hang on, I’m almost done.”

“Stop apologizing,” she said. “I’m gonna beat you up.”

Her joke barely got a smile from him. Katara wanted to say more, but had to recenter her breathing first. She wasn’t doing a good job. It was shuddery and wet. 

She realized that he was done a little late—everything was a bit fuzzy. Katara blinked up at him, smiling. It was funny, how she’d gone from fearing the sight of Zuko, to hating him, to this new feeling. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was different than how she’d felt about anyone before.

He blinked down at her, something strangely lost in his face.

“Uh. Soup.” 

“I hope it’s better than the tea.” 

“I don’t understand how you can be so light-hearted about all of this,” he muttered. He pushed another pillow behind her. 

“Zuko.” Katara waited until he was close enough, and then grabbed at his chin. He startled but didn’t pull away. Katara locked her eyes onto his, and slowly smiled again at the way his face was so confused. “Zuko, we won. We won this war. Everything, all of it has been worth it.”

“I hadn’t let myself think about it,” he murmured. “I—“

“Well, think about it, Fire Lord.” Katara let her hand drop. A simple motion like that had been enough to exhaust her. “You’re gonna have a whole country to run.” 

“I don’t wanna think about it. Not until you’re better.” 

Katara frowned. “That’s stupid, Zuko. I’m fine.”

“You’re not, Katara, you—“ Zuko cut himself off. And then he looked down and saw her opening her mouth to argue, and covered her mouth with his hand. “No. We’re not fighting right now. You’re going to eat this food and recover.”

She licked his hand. She giggled at the horrified look on his face as he pulled his hand away 

“Sorry, grew up with Sokka,” she said. “Fine. We fight later. Deal?”

“Deal.” Zuko grabbed the bowl of soup. Katara watched him through sleepy eyes, enjoying the way his face was red. It had taken a while, for him to get used to the teasing that they always used with each other. Maybe especially from her. She didn’t joke as much as the others. It was easier with Zuko, though. 

The soup was better than the tea. Katara managed to eat half of it before she started struggling to swallow with how tired she was. She nearly spilled several mouthfuls on herself before Zuko pulled the bowl away. 

“You’re okay. Sleep,” Zuko’s calming voice said. Katara should’ve been warmed by the soup, but she still fought back a shiver. Maybe she was getting a fever now. She reached, until she found Zuko’s arm. 

“Cold,” she mumbled. “Stay?”

Zuko’s hand settled over her own. “You want me to . . . Katara, I can go find some more blankets.” 

Katara frowned. “No. You. Warm.” She tugged weakly at him. 

“Okay.” She felt the bed move as he slid down next to her. He was a steady heat at her side. 

“Thank you,” she managed, before once more she fell victim to her exhaustion.

Chapter Text

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But between the fight itself, the drain of Sozin’s comet disappearing, and the constant state of adrenaline he’d been in since Katara was hurt, Zuko found himself drifting off into a deep sleep. No nightmares woke him. 

He woke up feeling more rested than he had in a year. His arm was numb. Zuko opened his eyes to find himself curled around Katara—her head on his upper arm, one of his legs thrown over hers. 

Zuko grimaced. He could have jostled her in the middle of the night, sleeping like this. What if he’d put a hand on her chest? But she’d pulled him down and he hadn’t been able to resist being able to be near, to know she was still breathing and alive. Selfish. 

She opened her eyes as he was looking at her—Zuko nearly flinched in surprise but managed to stop his reaction before he hurt her.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said.

“You weren’t asleep?”

“I woke up a little while ago. You looked too peaceful.”

Zuko made a face. “Katara, that was stupid, you should’ve woken me up. Are you thirsty? What do you need?”

“Actually, I need to use the restroom.” Katara made a face back at him. “Can you help me stand up?”

“Yeah.” Zuko felt overly warm as he tried to untangle their legs. “Sorry about this.”

“Don’t be. It was nice, not being cold and alone.” Katara’s smile was infectious. Zuko was weak against it, smiling himself. Getting Katara up was easier than he thought. She seemed stronger than yesterday.

“Are you going to be able to heal yourself completely?” Zuko asked hopefully.

“I’ll heal myself as much as I can,” she said. She paused as he led her into the bathroom. “Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“I want a bathroom like this someday.”

Zuko laughed. “That’s a small wish.”

“No it isn’t! Do you know what bathrooms are like in the South Pole?”

Zuko’s body registered what Katara had said before his mind fully did—he froze in place, even as he continued holding Katara up carefully. For all their plans, they’d been so focused on winning the war. He hadn’t thought about the after, beyond the vague knowledge that it was his destiny to become the Fire Lord. 

Katara would leave. Their friends . . . everyone would scatter. 

“—and don’t even get me started on what they used for bathrooms in the swamp!” Katara finally seemed to register that Zuko had stopped moving. “Zuko? I do really have to pee.”

“Sorry.” He released her. “Just . . . call me when you’re done.”

“Sure.” Katara smiled.

Zuko was left on his own for what felt like hours, but was only a few minutes. The war was over. The future was supposed to feel bright and hopeful. But the only emotion Zuko could summon was fear and the promise of loneliness.

“Zuko? Uh, I’m a little . . . stuck.” 

Zuko entered the bathroom to find Katara precariously perched on the edge of the bathtub, swaying. He darted forward, grabbing her. She instantly sagged against him, trusting him to hold her upright.

“What do you think you were doing?”

“I was thinking that I smell like pond water and I wanted a wash, but I got kinda . . . off-balance.”

Zuko grimaced. “Katara, I don’t know . . . there aren’t any maids left to help, I don’t think—“

She looked perfectly innocent as she stared up at him. “You can help me, Zuko.”

Zuko was going to burn alive. Maybe he had caught himself on fire. That was what it felt like. 

“Katara,” he said, voice strangled in his own ears. “Please, I—“

“Well, you’ve already seen my . . . my chest,” she said. Her own cheeks were turning red. “And you can just mostly not look. It’s not like I would trust anyone else to help right now. Well, maybe Suki. Or Sokka. But he would be so annoying about it. And who knows when they’ll show up.”

Zuko tried to calm down. It was just helping out a friend. And it was the least Zuko could do, after he’d failed to help her before.

“Alright,” he said. His voice still sounded funny. He turned the water on. “If you’re . . . you’re okay with it.” 

Zuko kept his eyes averted. He still couldn’t help but notice the smoothness of Katara’s skin, the firmness of the muscles beneath, as his hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her carefully into the warm water. 

“You couldn’t make it warmer?” she asked. 

“I didn’t want to make your body temperature swing too much. You felt a little warm this morning, I think you might have a slight fever.” 

“Well, if you noticed I was warm, then I probably was.” Katara sighed as she settled into the water. Zuko quickly turned around as soon as she was safe. He yelped as he was splashed on the back of his head. 

It was hard to get annoyed, knowing that she had the strength to do a touch of waterbending. Still, he had to pretend for the sake of being normal. 

“Really?” he groused. 

“Really,” she said, mock-sweetly. She hissed in pain and Zuko resisted the urge to turn and see what was hurting her, clenching his fists against it. 

“When do you think the others will be here?” Katara mused. 

He sighed. “I don’t know. They probably need to make sure that the Earth Kingdom is properly liberated. It’ll at least be a week, cleaning up the damage, unless they don’t bother and head straight here instead.”

“Yeah. They’re all okay, though?”

“I don’t have the details yet. Hopefully they’ll send word soon, we just got the initial report that my fath—that Aang won.”

“Alright.” Katara blew out a breath. “Any chance you could help me wash my hair?”

“Uh, yeah. Um . . .”

“I can get out and sit down next to the tub,” she suggested. “There’s a basin over there.” 

“Sure.” 

They once again did a cautious dance with Zuko closing his eyes. He glanced down after she was wrapped in a robe again. He frowned, peering closer at the wound and tugging back the collar slightly.

“Katara, I thought you were going to heal it more.”

“I did as much as I could. A lot of it is already scar tissue. I got the worst part.”

Zuko didn’t say anything more after that. He’d promised himself not to argue with Katara, but she hadn’t let him fully apologize yet, and he wasn’t going to be able to stop himself for much longer. 

Chapter Text

Zuko’s hands were heaven on Katara’s head. As awkward as the entire experience had been, it was a relief to finally be clean. And now, with his fingers sliding carefully through her hair, Katara could have gone back to sleep. He’d even made the water hot. 

“I’m gonna need you to find someone else to be Fire Lord. You can be a hairdresser instead,” Katara said. 

He chuckled. Katara cracked open an eye. He looked as concentrated in washing her hair as he had in facing his sister. He looked beautiful, Katara thought. Even exhausted and ruffled from sleep. 

The feeling in her chest had nothing to do with the injury she’d gotten. Katara closed her eyes as she realized what it was. 

She’d had crushes before. This gave her the same bubbly sensation in her belly, but it was something deeper, tangled up in the pulse in her heart. Katara tried to press her feelings down. She had suspected, on Ember Island, that Zuko was becoming dangerously important to her, but she hadn’t realized how much. Zuko was about to be Fire Lord. She doubted he would find her attractive in any case—he would have a million beautiful Fire Nation noblewomen around him, vying for his attention. And now, with the hideous mass of scar tissue on her chest, he could hardly find her pretty. He used to call her a peasant, after all. 

“Katara, I need to say something.”

She groaned. “Don’t ruin this,” she said. “It feels so nice.”

“I can’t stand it, Katara, please.” 

She opened her eyes. The anguish in his eyes made her breath catch. 

“I’m so sorry. I never should’ve brought you here and put you in harm’s way. I knew Azula lies and cheats. I should’ve guessed she would attack you. And I was slow, and you nearly died, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Katara let his apology linger in the air for a few quiet moments as she stared up at him. His hands were still tangled in her hair.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Okay. You’re an idiot, Zuko.”

“Katara! I’m not joking around, I—“

“Last time I checked, we were in this together. You didn’t put me in harm’s way. I chose to join you, and I wanted to be with you. I was the one who ran out and put a target on my head. I put everything at risk because I couldn’t stand the idea of you being alone. You could’ve died because of me.” Katara saw him open his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with a frown. “Don’t interrupt me. Zuko, I would do it all again, if it meant you could win and be alive. It was my fault. Stop trying to apologize.” 

“You are the most stubborn . . .” Zuko bowed his head. His shaggy hair was nearly touching her forehead with how he was arched over her. Katara slowly reached up, feeling her chest twinge at the motion. She tugged on his hair. 

“Are you done being dramatic? Because you could use a bath too.” 

Zuko’s laugh sounded a little painful. Katara froze as he leaned down even further, pressing his lips against her forehead. 

“Ridiculous,” he murmured against her skin, before slowly pulling back. “I don’t want to say it, because I still don’t like it, but thank you.” 

Katara needed desperately to distract herself from looking at Zuko’s lips, because she was in terrible danger right now of trying to kiss him. “How come Toph gave me the title ‘Sugar Queen,’ yet you ended up just being ‘Sparky?’ You should’ve been ‘Prince Dramatic’ or something.” 

Zuko carefully lifted her head from the water, wrapping a towel around it. Katara considered waterbending it dry, but even the thought was exhausting. The small amount of healing she’d done had wiped her out.

“What now?” she wondered.

“Now, you lie still and focus on healing.”

“And you?”

“I . . . I’d like to stay with you. But I do need to make sure that the Fire Sages are directing everything correctly. 

“Sorry you have to do that alone.” Katara still avoided looking at his face, but it was too tempting with his hand near her—she reached over and pulled it close, pressing her lips against the heel of his palm. “I’m sure you’ll handle it all, though.” 

“Th-thanks.” Zuko’s voice sounded strange. 

“If I can help in any way, you’ll tell me?” Katara’s mouth felt clumsy with exhaustion. She bit down on a yelp of surprise as Zuko picked her up. 

“You’re going to sleep, and that’s it.”

“I just woke up,” she moaned. “I don’t wanna sleep.” 

“Well, tough.” 

Katara turned her face slightly into Zuko’s chest. He smelled of smoke and pond water. 

“Bath first,” she murmured. “Or they’ll call you Stinky Lord instead of Fire Lord.”

Zuko laughed, and Katara could feel the rumble of it in his chest. He was heartbreakingly gentle as he settled her back on the bed—his bed. If Katara let herself, she could imagine that Zuko wanted her there. That maybe he felt about her the way she felt about him.

In the middle of her muddled thoughts, Zuko was arranging a cup of water at her bedside, settling blankets over her.

“You’re going to be okay?” he checked.

“I’ll be fine.” 

Katara couldn’t deny the way her heart sank as Zuko left. She tried to distract herself by looking around. His room was sadly empty, though. The furniture was nice. She could swear that there were scorch marks on the wall behind one oddly placed dresser. 

The longer she lay still, the more Katara wanted to move. She was shaky, sweating and hot. She managed to wrangle the blankets off of her body. Everything felt strange and wrong. 

She thought she heard laughter. Azula. She must have escaped. She wanted to finish what she started. 

Water. She needed water. Katara twisted and then she was falling—her body thudded into the ground. 

It felt like her chest was splitting in half. Katara heard a scream come from somewhere. 

She finally managed to pull herself up against a wall. She was hemmed in. Safer. Where was Zuko?

Chapter Text

Zuko was overwhelmed. The Fire Sages had compiled lists of the priority tasks, but it seemed like everything was a priority. Ordering the army into a temporary hold at the barracks. Notifying generals of the power change and to declare loyalty within a certain time period. The official first draft of the notice of cease fire to all of the nations and request for a peace summit. And so many other tasks. 

He finally finished managed to placate them with some basic orders—but it was hours later that he was able to escape. 

He had hoped that Katara would have been asleep for it all—he opened the door to find the bed empty. Immediately, panic surged. 

“Katara! Katara, wh—“

He stumbled into the room and froze.

Katara was in the corner of the room, pressed up against the wall. Zuko slowed down his approach, going down on one knee. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed. 

“Katara?”

Her eyes wandered. Zuko hated how lost and fearful she looked. He reached out a hand.

The moment he did so, Katara let out a cry of terror, hands twisting in a motion he’d only seen once. Zuko couldn’t move of his own volition. 

“Katara,” he choked out. “Please. It’s Zuko.”

Her entire body was shaking. Zuko couldn’t imagine how much it took out of her to do this technique. He’d never asked about it, after going after Yon Rha, and now he was regretting it. 

“Katara, it’s me, please.”

“Z-zuko.” Her eyes finally seemed to focus on him, and her hands dropped. Zuko surged forward, carefully gathering her up. Her body was hot against him. 

“You’re okay,” he promised her. “I’ve got you.”

He was so stupid. He should’ve realized Katara would get sick from everything. He never should’ve left her alone. He was the absolute worst person to exist. Was there anything in his life he wouldn’t break?

Katara clung to his chest. Zuko tried to put her back down on the bed, but she wouldn’t let him go. 

“Katara, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Zuko.” She seemed too warm. “Zuko.”

“That’s my name,” he said lamely.

“Zuko, s-she was here. Azula.”

His gut twisted with guilt. “No, Katara, she’s not. She’s in prison, I promise.” 

Just like that, all the tension disappeared from Katara’s body. She sagged against him. Zuko sat down on the bed with her. She kept her hand wrapped in his collar. 

After all the craziness of the day, it was strangely nice to sit, Katara a warm weight in his lap. Zuko didn’t want to move, even thought he knew he should put her down.

“Zuko? Are you okay?”

Luminous blue eyes, even blurred from fever, were looking up at him. Zuko tried to smile for her. 

“I’m okay, Katara. You’re the one who’s sick.”

She smiled gently. Zuko sucked in a startled breath as she reached up, hand resting against his scar. 

“You’re so pretty.”

Zuko’s jaw dropped. 

Katara giggled in his arms. Zuko cleared his throat and began to maneuver himself out from behind her. 

“Uh, think you’re getting a little delirious there,” he laughed awkwardly. “Why don’t you try to sleep, Katara?”

She squirmed against him. “You’re leaving?” 

“I—no. No, I’m just going to get you some water.”

“Oh. Shouldn’t you get fire? You’re fire boy.”

Zuko combed her sweaty hair out of her face with his calloused fingers. He held his breath as she immediately nuzzled into his hand. 

He got a damp rag and placed it across her forehead, which seemed to distract her. 

“I’m going to re-bandage your chest,” he told her. “Do you want more of that tea?”

“No, gross.” Katara grabbed at the rag. “Cold.”

“I know, you need it. Here, I . . . hold onto me, okay?”

Immediately her hand fastened to his belt. Zuko swallowed heavily. Even with what they’d been through, he couldn’t understand how he’d earned Katara’s whole-hearted trust, in such a short time.

“Zuko?”

He shook himself free of the tangle of thoughts. Katara’s eyes were struggling to focus on him. The healer was supposed to show up any minute. 

“It’s okay, Katara, just sleep.”

“N-no. No.”

She started struggling, twisting in the sheets and Zuko quickly grabbed her wrists. When it didn’t seem to do enough, he slid into the bed next to her, holding her overheated body close. 

“I’m right here, Katara. Shh, you’re okay.” Nonsense fell from his mouth, like that would help. He was doing his best not to panic, but his mind was racing ahead, picturing Katara sick and dying. 

She couldn’t die. 

It was probably making her worse, keeping her close to him, so warm. 

She stopped struggling against him. 

“Zuko?”

“I’m right here.”

“Oh. Oh, good. I . . . Azula?”

“Not here. You’re okay.”

He tried to let go of her, but she clutched at him. The fear in her eyes made him feel sick. Even the day before facing Azula, she hadn’t been afraid. 

“Z-Zuko.”

“Yeah, Katara. I’m right here.”

“Oh. Oh, good. Not . . . You’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Zuko closed his eyes, heart pattering against his ribs. “I’m good.”

Chapter Text

Katara wanted to throw herself off a cliff.

It was the only solution. She could remember crying like a child, terrified of Azula like she was a spirit. Zuko had to think she was pathetic. 

She didn’t know whether she’d kept him up all night taking care of her. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was asleep despite the morning shining brightly into the room. 

The fever broken, Katara still felt weak, but she was able to slide out from the covers and stand on her own power to make it to the bathroom. She rinsed off the sweat of fever, and worked on the few raw points left on her chest with what remained of her strength. Katara stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, before she hid her scarred body in a new robe. She was surrounded by opulence that she didn’t fit into, with her wild curly hair and battle-hardened appearance.

“Katara!”

Zuko sounded ridiculously scared. Katara lunged for the door just as he burst through, wild-eyed. 

“Z-zuko! I’m here!”

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He didn’t seem to realize he was saying it, as he looked over her frantically. Katara swallowed as his hands grasped onto her hips. Her emotions were swamping her again, dragging her down. 

The robe felt too thin, his hands too warm over her skin.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” he admonished. “Stop pushing yourself so much.”

“I was just washing, Zuko.” 

“How’s your wound?” 

“Oh! All healed.” Katara drew open her robe slightly. She was hyper-aware of how suggestive her movement might seem, and stopped halfway. Zuko didn’t seem to notice, reaching up and tugging at her collar to see it more. It was a large, star-shaped scar right above her sternum—pink right now, but Katara thought it was looking strangely pale at the edges. The whole scar might turn lighter as it healed more. The starburst points tapered off into thin scraggly white lines towards her collarbones and breasts. 

“You couldn’t . . . the scar?”

She could remember him bringing it up before, while she’d been lost in her fever. Katara shrugged.

“It’s not like anyone will ever see it, Zuko. If anything, it’s a good reminder, right?”

Zuko didn’t seem to realize he had reached up to touch the edge of his own scar. “Reminder of what?” he murmured. 

“Of how to not be stupid during a fight.” Katara twisted her face into a wry smile. Now, with less pain and fever to distract her, she couldn’t help but want to yell at herself. She’d followed her emotions, her heart, into a fight. It was a childish thing that had nearly gotten her killed, and could’ve gotten Zuko killed. 

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.” Zuko’s voice was a bare whisper. Katara wondered if he was talking to himself. She held her breath as his thumb slid across the strangely thickened flesh of her scar. “It’s a mark of how you fight.”

“It . . . it was stupid of me,” Katara managed. Her chest felt too tight to talk with his hand over her. “I put you in danger.”

“You were thinking of me. Your heart is . . . it’s what makes you a fighter, yeah?”

“Zuko.” Katara swallowed. “D-do you . . . you . . .”

“You said something yesterday. I want you to know. That if I could, I would’ve been faster. I would have taken the lightning for you. I wish I had.”

“I don’t.” Katara wasn’t brave enough to look at Zuko’s face. She dared to reach up and cover his hand with her own, trapping it against her heart. “Better me than you.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that, Katara, I’m not . . .”

Katara was able to be brave, with anger behind it. “Not what?” she challenged. She looked up into his face, feeling her chin wobble with the urge to cry. “Not worth it?” She tried to put every ounce of her admiration and feelings for him into her eyes. 

“Katara,” he breathed.

Her bravery failed her. Katara looked down, breathing unsteadily. Her legs were getting weak again, the world swimming. 

“Feel weird,” she mumbled.

“Easy. The healer said the fever was your body recovering. You shouldn’t be up yet.”

She nodded unsteadily. 

Katara knew that if she didn’t try now, she would regret it. Even if Zuko didn’t feel the same; even if he pushed her away. 

She went up on her toes, trembling with the effort, and pressed her forehead to his. She didn’t kiss him, waiting with her eyes closed and her heart in her throat. 

Zuko moved slowly and deliberately. One hand grasped her shoulder, the other slid around her back, pressing her body against his and keeping her upright.

“Katara,” he murmured. 

Only then did he lean in, pressing his lips against hers. Katara kissed him with a clumsiness and fervor—she didn’t know what she was doing, but she needed him to know the breadth of what she was feeling for him. Zuko slowed her down, his mouth moving gently against hers, nudging at her with his nose and jaw to position her more comfortably. 

Katara didn’t know how long she was kissing Zuko before he pulled away from her. She stared up at him, terrified he was going to tell her that he didn’t feel that way. That he was sorry.

“After everything I put you through, you—“ Zuko went a little choked. The way he looked at her was like he was looking up at the moon, and it seeped into Katara like water through cracks in a jar, filling her up with contentment. 

The fear eased. Katara settled down on her heels, leaning in to rest her head against Zuko’s heart. His heartbeat was steady in her ear, though it was beating a little quickly. 

“You’re about to fall down, come on.” 

Katara scowled against his chest. “Ugh. Why can’t I be better already?” She couldn’t deny that her knees were trembling as Zuko drew her back into the room.

“I’m sorry, princess, if nearly dying isn’t a good enough reason.” 

Katara half-laughed. “Since when do you come up with nicknames?”

“Shut up.” Zuko’s good ear was bright red. “I don’t know. You just kissed me, I’m flustered.”

“You kissed me.” Katara blinked up innocently at him. 

“Yeah, well.” Zuko helped her into the bed, kissing her forehead. Katara wanted to cry with how gentle it was. “I’d do it again.”

“You . . . you would?” Katara’s mind raced ahead to the future—their friends showing up, the war being over, everything. 

Zuko’s hand hovered over her own. Katara took it without hesitation.

“Yeah, Katara.”

“I would too.” Katara used the last bit of energy in her to tug Zuko a little bit lower, kissing his cheek. She missed slightly, kissing the edge of his scar. 

She didn’t think she would ever forget the look in his eyes, after. 

“Everything is gonna be different,” he said. “But we’ll get through it together.” 

“Together,” she echoed. She fell asleep, resting on that promise.