Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He had about two and a half hours, according to the time shown on the shattered screen of his iphone. He let the screen go black, and spent a moment staring at his reflection before shoving the device into a drawer and closing it. It didn’t even have a password on it and it would be too easy for him to be found if he took it with him. He would get a new phone, and a new number.

With both hands, he lifted the lid of Druk’s too-small terrarium, the one he had outgrown years ago. The creature came up to the top and rubbed its nose against its owner's wrist affectionately.

Lifting him out, Zuko promised Druk that he would get him a bigger terrarium, but a plastic container would have to do for now. It was only temporary, until he was able to figure things out. He didn’t know how he would figure things out, but he knew he would, eventually. He always did.

He hefted his backpack on his shoulder but then dropped it, deciding instead to grab a pencil and paper. Nearly tearing through the paper with the pencil’s tip, he hastily scribbled out a note which he would leave on the kitchen counter.

Dear Mai,

I’m sorry you have to find out this way, but I’m leaving.

And he was. Sorry, that is. Really. But he knew that this was the only way he would leave. He’d tried to have the conversation in person so many times, but no matter how strongly he’d started out in his convictions, he’d always somehow ended up being talked out of it in the end. The problem was that deep down, he knew that they were all right about him. What his father said was right. Azula and Mai, too. He was a coward, weak. But he had to know the truth. It had to be this way, and it had to be today.

Zuko grabbed his backpack, and Druk’s container with his sweatshirt on top of it, and headed out the door.

-

Katara didn't really know how to feel about Suki's new roommates. On one hand, they were Suki's friends, and a friend of one of Katara's oldest and dearest friends was always a friend of Katara. Six months ago Suki had come to Ba Sing Se intending to move in with Katara's brother. Things had fallen through when Sokka's roommate, Aang, had to cancel his plans to travel around the world due to the sudden and unexpected passing of his guardian. Sokka could not abandon Aang in his time of mourning, and luckily Mai's ex had just moved out, which meant she and Ty Lee were in need of an extra tenant.

The apartment was one of the nicest Katara had ever seen, in a towering art-deco style building in the expensive part of downtown. Mai and Ty Lee were gracious enough to give Suki a discount on rent, and the extra bedroom, while Mai moved into Ty Lee’s room. Zuko, Mai's ex, had put quite a lot of money into the place. He hadn’t been around much, though, and apparently had a nasty temper when he was around. He and Mai had been off again, on again for years even before they moved in together, and Mai had hoped the move would make them closer. Far from it, the relationship had spiraled even worse after that, as had Zuko’s temper, apparently. Then, one day, he left. He took almost nothing with him and left behind a short note as a goodbye.

Katara had heard terrible stories about him. Every time she came over, Mai would regale them with some new horror story, or Katara would encounter some evidence of Zuko’s exploits from the things he had left behind in the apartment. When Suki had initially moved in, the two of them had taken an impromptu trip to the mall to go mattress shopping because the one in the extra bedroom looked like it had been stabbed multiple times with a very large, very sharp knife. It gave Katara serious Investigation Discovery vibes. There were also what looked suspiciously like scorch marks on the carpet in the closet. Mai’s explanation had been that Zuko had been a recovering drug addict, “although let’s be real, we all know that wagon left without him long ago.”

She’d been helping Suki move the last of the things she’d had shipped from Kyoshi, which also meant packing up some of the stuff that had been left there into boxes. There was a nice oak desk in the bedroom that Mai said Suki could have, and when they’d asked her what to do with all the stuff that had been crammed inside its drawyers, her reply had been a simple “burn it.”

Among all of Mai’s ex’s things, there was a lighter with some kind of dragon decal on it, and a phone with a cracked screen. All of it went into the boxes that Katara and Suki were filling up to take to the dump. There was a framed photograph that caught Katara’s eye. The picture was of a smiling, grandfatherly older man standing next to a much younger man in his early twenties, also smiling broadly with an arm draped across the stout shoulders of the other. Both had the same startling amber eyes, bright like fireflies. It was kind of sweet, and she wondered idly if Mai’s ex was the young man in the photo, and who the older man was. It didn’t fit with the image she had in her head of the person Mai always described, but then, she knew as well as anyone that photographs could lie.

She put the framed photo at the top of a box in the living room, while Suki was sorting through more of Zuko’s things. Mai was sitting on the couch watching some insipid reality tv show that Katara knew she hated. That was why she watched it.

“This one’s done, I think,” Katara said, bending to pick up the finished box; feeling her stomach grumble as she did so. Mai was cackling at something on the television, although from the melodramatic sounds coming from it, it wasn’t supposed to be funny. “I think we’re ready for lunch, Sukes. Have you been to that sandwich place on the corner yet? The reviews say it's-“

“Actually, I was hoping to take you by the gym today,” Suki said, flopping down on the couch next to Mai and watching for a few seconds before losing interest, noticing her friend had stopped talking. “Katara?”

Katara stood holding the cardboard box, and stared at what had been hiding behind it in a corner of the room. Almost colorless, it looked like pieces of some sort of netting or tubing. It was something Katara had seen before, at the vet clinic where she worked, in the reptile enclosures…

At the same time that Katara realized what she was looking at, Mai let out an audible groan, turning her attention away from whatever drama was unfolding on the television.

“Ugh, that fucking snake is back.”

“I’m sorry, back?”

Mai rolled her eyes dramatically, as she did in all matters concerning her ex. “Zuko's stupid pet. I thought the damn thing had escaped for good, but it must have come back looking for him.”

Katara was no expert on ophiology, but she did know that what she was looking at was only a partial shed, which meant that the snake was probably unhappy and hadn’t been properly cared for. She could also tell from the size of it that the shed had come from a very large snake. She wasn’t uncomfortable around snakes, and had experience with smaller ones, but she didn’t relish the idea of meeting a large snake that was loose somewhere in this apartment.

“Did someone say snake?” asked Ty Lee, coming up in the doorway from the kitchen, then noticing the shed on the floor. She was, as always, perfectly accessorized in various shades of bright pink, and did not look at all alarmed by the revelation they were now all staring at. Her unsurprised reaction matched Mai’s, but her cheeriness couldn’t be more different from her friend’s affected apathy. As close as they were, Mai and Ty Lee were like a matching set of opposites. “I still can’t believe he left it behind,” she said, deflating a little. “Poor thing.”

“So much of the shit in this apartment is either Zuko's or reminds me of him,” Mai sighed. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. His dad’s so rich he can definitely afford to buy a new sound system. I think that pays for all the emotional baggage.”

“Yeah, but to leave behind his pet,” Ty Lee said, with a forlorn sigh.

It was strange. Although judging from the things she had already heard about Zuko, Katara wasn’t exactly surprised to hear that he was also an irresponsible owner of large pets. She felt sorry for the poor creature, but, more than anything, she felt righteous anger rise in her gut. She didn’t even know him, but was beginning to feel that she knew more than she cared to.

Truth be told, she also felt annoyed by Mai and Ty Lee’s indifference towards the situation. If there was a large snake loose in this apartment, it needed to be found, and probably rehomed.

“Well, I don't need to sleep tonight,” Suki said.

Ty Lee put a thoughtful fingertip to her chin. “If I were a large boa, where would I be…?”

Katara scanned the room and stopped, her eyes landing on a towering floor-to ceiling bookcase that looked like an ideal place for something to hide behind. Moving over to the bookcase, she carefully tried to peek behind it.

“Uh, Katara…”

“What?” She said, still examining the bookcase, trying to figure out how to move it, when she spotted something reddish dangling from the top down to a lower shelf.

Something that looked like a curling tail.

An arrow-shaped head poked out from around the corner of the shelf, and, startled at the intrusion of its perch, the snake stretched its neck around the corner, and Katara could see that it was indeed a very large boa constrictor. Flustered by having its hiding spot disturbed, it slithered down from the side of the bookshelf and onto the carpet.

Katara quickly backed away from the bookcase. The snake raised its narrow head, and began to peer at her with protruding round eyes. There was nothing to be afraid of. She had worked with snakes before, this one was just a little bigger than any of those. Boas were fairly calm animals. All she had to do was remain calm, too. The snake adjusted its coils, and Katara could see a bit more of its length.

She took a step towards it.

The creature let out a sudden, high hiss.

Katara matched its reptilian gaze.

“I know you're scared,” she said, trying to keep the quaver from her own voice. “But I know you're just looking for a friend. For the place where you belong.”

And I suppose I can relate to that, she thought.

Suki shouted in surprise and Ty Lee screamed as something went whizzing across from the other side of the room. It was a large pot, wielded by Mai, murder in her eyes. The pot banged against the wall noisily, missing the snake by a foot, and the offending intruder skittered along the wall, its impressive length disappearing under the couch. It was at least six feet, Katara thought, probably longer.

“Fuck,” Mai said. There was a dark mark on the wall from the pot she had thrown.

Katara had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. All Mai had done was agitate the animal, and an agitated animal could be dangerous. She had to focus here, and she felt the adrenaline coursing through her body being redirected as she formulated a plan. “Okay. Suki, go and get something with a long handle, like a broom or something. Ty Lee and Mai, find something we can put it in, like a duffel or laundry bag.”

Mai began to make a sound of distaste, but the look in Katara’s eyes must have silenced her, and then Ty Lee’s expression brightened. “I know!” And she dragged Mai by the hand.

Katara saw a flash of a red-speckled tail peeking out from under the couch, but the snake didn't move from its hiding spot. When she bent down to try to see under the couch, she heard a low hiss. She took a step back.

Suki rushed back into the room, broom in hand, and passed it to Katara. She could see the snake watching her, its hissing changing in timbre, as if it knew what she was about to attempt. She waited until Mai and Ty Lee got back with a large canvas bag. The three of them looked at her expectantly.

“Okay,” she said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You hold the bag open, and I’m going to sweep the broom under the couch and guide our friend into it. Then I want you to close it really fast.”

“Right,” Suki said, determinedly, taking the bag and directing the other two women to hold it open.  

Slowly, Katara began to slide the broom under the couch. The snake hissed as she got closer. Then she slipped the end behind it and the boa and the end of the broom both slid out from under the couch. The animal coiled and uncoiled but Katara gradually pushed each foot of snake into the bag with the end of the broom. Suki closed the drawstring tightly as the red-spotted tail disappeared.

“I’m going to have nightmares,” Mai moaned.

Katara resisted rolling her eyes for the second time. More like it’ll have nightmares of you.

“Not me,” said Suki. “I’ll sleep like a baby!”

“I’ll take it to my clinic,” Katara said. The snake needs to be somewhere where it can be taken care of.”

When Katara got into her car, she pulled out her phone and dialed Sokka’s number. She would not dial Aang’s cell, although he had given her his number and told her to call any time. The truth was that Aang had had this serious crush on her for a few years now. It was embarrassing. And frustrating. But if there was one person she could trust to find a home for a large abandoned boa, it was Aang.

After leaving a message on Sokka’s voicemail, she was about to hit the gas when she thought again of the old phone she had found in Zuko’s things, and reached into the box in the backseat. Plugging her car charger into it, she was surprised to find that not only did it fit, but the screen booted up fairly quickly, flashing a charging battery signal. Then a home screen, with a missed call notification. Katara clicked the “recent calls” icon and saw that the last one was from someone called “Uncle.”

Katara texted the number. It was a longshot, but it was the only thing she could think of.

Hello. I found this phone and I have Zuko’s snake.

She waited, and to her surprise, the word read appeared under her message. Then, the icon indicating that the other person was typing a reply.

Please do not contact this number.

Apparently Zuko and Uncle were not on speaking terms. She didn’t know what she had been expecting.

Then her phone buzzed. It wasn’t Sokka who had texted back, though, but Aang.

Of course I’ll be able to take it, Katara. Anything for an animal in need :)

Katara sighed and tossed her phone into the front seat a little too violently.

Aang had actually been the one to get her her first vet job, after she had dropped out of medical school. Perhaps that was part of the reason she didn’t relish the prospect of seeing him again. He was a reminder of her own failures and humiliations, a reminder that she could never be as good as she wanted to be. As good as he wanted her to be.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her job as a veterinary assistant. She did, and her boss, Haru, considered her to be one of the most valuable members of the team, even without the doctorate to her name. Since she was eight years old, Katara had wanted to help people, but people were messy and complicated. They had ugly sides, even when you knew the beauty was still there, too. Animals were simpler.

Yue was at the desk in the front lobby, and Katara enlisted her help in carrying the boa in its bag to the back room of the clinic, where she could house it temporarily until Aang could come to pick it up.

Yue opened the bag while Katara used a hooked instrument to carefully guide the snake out. Despite the trouble they had had getting it into the bag, it seemed the boa had decided that the laundry bag was as good a place to be as any, and was loath to leave it. Eventually, though, Katara was able to guide it out, coil by stubborn coil.

She had worked with snakes before, although never ones this large. She had to admit that she was a bit intimidated by the creature’s size, although it seemed much more docile now than it had been at the apartment. The snake seemed almost friendly towards her as it coiled around the hook she was using to move it, tongue flicking in curiosity as it bobbed its head in her direction.

He was about eight feet long, she guessed, a good-sized adult boa with a speckled pattern that gave way to a beautiful deep red color at the tail. As she had suspected, the snake had several pieces of stuck shed attached to its scales, due to improper humidity and care, and as Katara got a closer look at it, she also saw that it had some scarring on its nose, probably from trying to get the shed off. Otherwise, it was a handsome animal, and Katara found herself running her fingers along its scales as she worked.

She spent the next several hours trying to get the stuck shed off, during which the boa seemed to have decided it didn’t quite feel up to making friends just yet. Only a few bite attempts later, she had managed to awkwardly get it back in its temporary carrier, when Yue came in to tell her that someone was here for the snake.

Katara prepared herself for Aang’s arrival, but the person who barged into the procedure room was not at all who she expected.

“Sir, you can’t just come in - “ Katara began.

He was tall, with wide shoulders, a tattoo of a serpentine dragon peeking out from one shirtsleeve. He had long, dark hair that was tied up and fell messily about his face, and intense amber eyes that seemed to burn right through her as he looked around the room. Angry eyes, made even angrier by the scar that covered most of the left side of his face.

Katara realized where she had seen those eyes before.

All of the things she had thought about saying to him seemed to wither on her lips. All the stories she'd heard from Suki, every impression that she had of Zuko that had lived in her head for the past six months, all of her righteous indignation seemed to diminish in the face of his intense, frightening gaze.

She remembered what Mai had said, that she needed to be on her guard around him. She steeled herself and searched her thoughts for the speech she had prepared about irresponsible pet ownership. Zuko must have sensed what she was thinking. His eyes narrowed - which made his scar stand out even more. Katara took a slight step back, moving between him and the metal table on which the snake sat in its container, and Zuko followed her gaze, his right eye widening.

Katara tried again, more irritated, “I just wanted you to know I've had enough of you, and your snake-”

“Druk!” Zuko strode over to the metal table and bent over the container.

Katara watched as Zuko ignored her and hefted the boa much easier than she and Yue had. It clung to his arms, finally settling around his shoulders, red tail flicking lazily. In one fluid motion, it turned its reptilian gaze on her, sticking out its tongue as if mocking her from where it coiled in the safety of Zuko's (impressive) biceps.

Zuko cradled the snake, speaking very rapidly to it and not her, as if she weren't even there. After several painfully long moments, he looked back at her, and Katara could see a wet trail streaking across his right cheek.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “For bringing him back. I didn't expect, I mean…” He was stumbling over the words, his voice halting as he struggled with his tears, equally of sadness and of joy. He ran his fingers over the scarred nose, tenderly. “At least we match now,” he said, and there was bitterness there, a feeling Katara recognized all too well. Something hardened in his voice when he finally turned back to her. “I thought he was…my sister told me he got run over.”

Zuko's face looked so stricken as he spoke the words that the speech Katara had prepared about how she had almost been killed by his animal negligence lost its momentum before it had even gotten started.

“Your sister told you what?”

“I mean, I should have realized she was lying, I guess.” Zuko's eyes darkened for a bit, but then he turned to face the boa draped over his neck and chuckled as the snake tickled his ear with its forked tongue. Zuko laughed and patted it like it was a puppy. The sound of his joy was boyish and sibilant, and utterly unexpected, and when he turned his face to Katara, she basked in the sunlight of it. The effect was vaguely terrifying, and Katara had to remind herself that this was Mai's deadbeat ex. 

“But he's alive! I can't believe it. Druk and I have been through…a lot together. I've had him since I was like, eight.” Zuko turned back to the creature and smiled broadly, his face brightening and voice banished of the darkness it had held before, although his eyes were still a bit misty. “I missed you so much, buddy!”

The intensity of his sincerity and his grief struck Katara then. What Zuko had said about his sister kept echoing in her head, the startling cruelty of the lie. Druk and I have been through…a lot together.

Abruptly, he held the snake out to her with those enormous arms. Katara found herself wondering idly what gym he went to, then scolded herself for thinking it. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Do I want to hold your…snake?” Although she had spent the last few hours removing the stuck shed, this seemed a bit more personal. Besides, it had tried to bite her before.

“His name is Druk,” Zuko said. “I think he likes you, actually.”

“Oh, yeah, we're totally buds,” Katara deadpanned, and the snake gazed back at her impassively. And Druk. The name literally meant “thunder dragon.” A bit dramatic, she thought. Someone has a bit of an obsession. She eyed again the tattoo snaking up Zuko's right arm. This guy really seemed like a weirdo, but hardly in the way she had expected. Mostly, he seemed harmless, although that was at odds with everything she knew about him; both from the stories she had heard, and the powerful frame that was evident beneath his dark t-shirt.

Katara redirected herself away from that particular line of thinking, reminding herself why they were here. “I can only let you take him home if you're prepared to take care of a snake that size. He needs a proper enclosure, so he won't escape again. And make sure it's temperature controlled. He had a lot of stuck shed when I found him. You can take your phone back, too.” Her irritation was showing in her clipped tone, she knew, but she didn't care. She had just spent the last several hours cleaning up this man's mess, and she wanted him to know it.

Zuko blinked. “Phone?” Katara saw something shift in him, then, and he frowned, his expression darkening again, and this time he looked almost…afraid. “You're one of Mai's friends.”

Katara didn't know if she would go that far, since what she knew of Mai so far seemed to vacillate between carefully curated boredom and wanton animal cruelty. But that didn't justify Zuko's behavior. He was sort of backing away, which was odd considering he had about 75 pounds on her and was holding a very large snake. Katara took the opportunity to step forward. Good, he should feel ashamed.

“Keep the phone, I don't want it!” he said quickly, placing the boa back in its container and gathering both up as he spoke.

Then, before Katara could say anything else, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Katara wasn't supposed to be working today, but Yue popped her head in after Zuko had left, begging her to talk to a client whose Siberian Husky probably needed a hip replacement. Katara wasn't qualified to perform the surgery herself, but everyone at the clinic knew that she was the best consultant they had.

It was much later when Aang came in, with Appa leading on the leash. The big Newfoundland darted for Katara, nearly bowling her over. She ran her hands through Appa's thick fur, her smile fading a bit when she saw Aang wave at her. She had actually forgotten that he was supposed to come pick up the snake. For a solid moment, Katara fervently wished she had been bitten or possibly strangled by the boa, anything to avoid the conversation she was about to have.

“Appa loves everyone,” Aang said, coming to the dog's side and rubbing him between the ears. “But you know, he really likes you, Katara.”

“Uh, yeah,” Katara replied, removing her hand from Appa's fur. The dog huffed grumpily as she did so. She loved Appa, too, but she wished Aang wouldn't do that. She busied herself with inspecting some of the empty cages to avoid Aang's gaze.

“So,” Aang said, glancing sideways at her while pretending to be interested in what she was doing. “Where's the boa you rescued?”

“Sorry, Aang, the guy who owned him came and picked him up a few hours ago. I didn’t think he’d come in, but I guess that’s a happy ending, right?”

Aang’s eyes widened in surprise. “The guy who - what, Katara! You mean Zuko? You gave an animal to Zuko ?”

“Wait,” Katara whirled around. She had expected Aang’s admonishment, his disappointment, his condescending reassurance that he still wouldn’t stop pursuing her, despite how very much he disapproved of her actions. This, though, she had not expected. “You know Zuko?”

“No,” Aang admitted. “But I know his type. Mai told me all about him.”

“Mai told you - ?” Since when did Aang know Mai? Katara tried to picture cheerful, peace-loving Aang palling around with Suki’s roommate with the dark eyeliner who liked to laugh at other people’s misfortune, and failed.

“Oh,” Aang said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “I’ve been helping her out with some stuff. We met in therapy. You know, after Gyatso? And I knew she knew you through Suki, and…the point is, Katara, Zuko is the reason Mai goes to therapy. That guy is bad news. He can’t be trusted with an animal.”

“It’s his pet,” Katara said, not sure why she should feel the need to stick up for Mai’s crazy ex. “He’s had him since he was eight.”

“You’re so trusting, Katara,” Aang said, smiling gently in a way that annoyed her. Then his voice got that tone again. “It’s what I like about you, but…”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Aang,” she said, more harshly than she’d meant to, and she could see it in Aang’s hurt reaction. He tugged on Appa’s leash, giving her a wave and a cheerful smile that barely disguised his bruised feelings, and Katara found herself feeling a pang of guilt she didn’t want to feel. 

She had a right to stick up for herself. She was even more annoyed at the encounter with Zuko for having been scolded by Aang over it. She left the clinic that evening feeling frustrated, like she had just heard the beginning of a long, complicated joke whose punchline would be at her expense.

She couldn’t help wondering, too, about Aang and Mai. Helping her through some stuff. Aang was always looking for some charitable cause he could join, some poor unfortunate soul he could take under his wing. But Mai in therapy? She didn't seem the type. Or was Aang trying to make her jealous? It wouldn’t work, but that image was still struggling to form in Katara’s mind. Something didn’t quite fit about it.

-

She dreamed she was burning.

Everything was on fire, and she couldn’t get out. Mom couldn’t get out. She had to find dad, but there was so much smoke everywhere that she couldn’t breathe, let alone see. She had to get out. She had to get mom.

She crawled on tiny hands and knees, feeling so small, until she was able to find a door. She yanked on the knob with both hands, palms pressed against the hot metal, and a wave of fire and smoke assaulted her. She fell backwards, and then someone was scooping her up, holding her close to his chest.

When her dad put her down, she was sobbing, coughing, her lungs full of ash. Her palms were red where the doorknob had burnt her. Sokka was crying, too, while men and women in uniforms tried to douse the fire. And mom wasn’t there.

When Katara woke, her palms were drenched in sweat, and she raised her shaking hands to her face, as if she would see them red and swollen, as they had been in the dream. No, the memory. In the darkness, she could just make out the faint lines of scarred flesh, faded now after years.

That had been long ago, but her hands still shook. They always would.

-

As promised, Suki took Katara to the gym where she was a member, a few blocks away from the apartment. Suki was always training for some marathon or other. Katara admired this about her friend, although she didn’t quite understand the concept of running for fun. But she did enjoy the chance to catch up when it was just the two of them, touring the facilities and getting a good workout. After a while, Katara left Suki on the treadmill and went to take a dip in the large indoor pool.

No one else had had the idea to go swimming that day, but being alone suited her just fine. With her body submerged in water, Katara felt refreshed and restored. She lay on her back for a while, floating aimlessly and weightless.

When she emerged from the pool area, a towel wrapped around her waist, Katara was drawn towards one of the nearby aerobics rooms, with its floor-to-ceiling windows. Inside, she could see a tall and muscular figure practicing martial arts. Each time he struck the punching bag, he let out a heavy grunt, his form precise and sure. Katara couldn’t help but admire his lean body, almost mesmerized by his movements. Then he turned and she caught a glimpse of his scarred profile, strands of sweaty hair falling into his face.

Katara was sure she’d been spotted, but he turned away from her and continued his routine. She quickly backed away from the window to where she couldn’t be seen, not wanting Zuko to see her but unwilling to tear her eyes away from him.

She didn't know how long she had been watching him. Eventually he moved away from the windows and out of her sight.

She was conscious of the fact that she was still dressed in her bikini and towel, so she quickly slipped her t-shirt over her head. When she looked up, she saw Zuko approaching her.

Frantically pulling the hem of her shirt down, she met his gaze, putting on an expression of what she hoped looked like surprise.

Was it suddenly hot in this building? Katara had the urge to jump back into the pool, to disappear from sight, but Zuko was already talking to her.

“Hi. You're the vet tech from the other day. The one who found Druk?”

“Katara,” she said, wondering why she volunteered the information. She didn't really want him to know her name, but he had started out at a disadvantage. Plus, she didn't really like men calling her names that were not her own. Although she had to admit that it pleased her that Zuko had used her occupation and not her sex to identify her.

Zuko ran a hand through his sweaty bangs. He was good-looking, despite the burn scar that marked one side of his face, causing his left eye to be stuck in a perpetual squint. He seemed to favor that side when attacking the punching bag, a detail he hid well, but Katara couldn't help but notice. She wondered what had happened to him.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” Zuko said, “and sorry for running away like that the other day. I thought you were… never mind. Anyway, I wanted to tell you,” his hesitancy was kind of endearing, too, the way he stumbled over the words like he wanted her approval. “That I'm building a new terrarium for Druk. A bigger one. And the offer still stands if you want to come by and hold him some time. I think he misses you.”

Katara really wished she could jump into that pool. She was conscious of her wet bikini soaking through her shirt, the fabric clinging to her breasts. She could say that she was here with a friend and couldn't leave. Although she knew that Suki would just assume she had gone off and done her own thing. 

And there was something about this guy that intrigued her. Not just his looks. Mai's voice echoed in her head. He has the emotional intelligence of a lemur, but for some reason that's part of the appeal. It's like he's stupidly charming.

“I probably should check that cut on his nose,” Katara said. That's all it was. She was just doing her job. She could reassure Aang that the boa was in good hands, and that she hadn't made a mistake.

Zuko lived just a short distance from the gym. As they walked, he excitedly began to tell her about the new terrarium he was building for Druk. Judging from what he was saying about specifications, he had done his research. Again, Katara found herself thinking that he wasn't at all what she had expected.

“It's what I always wanted to do for Druk, but…I couldn't, before.” He shut his mouth awkwardly, and Katara wondered what he had been going to say. She watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a lighter, fiddling anxiously with it. Katara suddenly remembered what Mai had said about him being a drug addict. But Zuko just kept flicking open the lighter and closing it, like he didn't know what to do with his hands.

Katara wanted to fill the silence with something, but her thoughts kept turning back to what she had heard about Zuko before meeting him, and how it didn't at all fit with the person who was walking next to her. Perhaps the stories she had heard were just that, full of the bitter feelings that accompanied a bad breakup. It wasn't unheard of, certainly. Once someone already had an idea of you made up, it was hard to change it. Which was something she and Zuko seemed to have in common.

“So, you got Druk when you were a kid, huh?”

Zuko seemed to draw out of himself a little at the mention of the boa.

“Yeah, my mom got him for me. So I wouldn't be so lonely when she wasn't there. I wasn't the most…popular kid.”

Katara thought he was going to withdraw again, but he gave a small smile as he said it. She smiled back.

“Neither was I. Well, I was an insufferable know-it-all. After I left my small hometown, I found out how much I didn't know. About…a lot of things.”

Zuko looked sideways at her, as if he wanted to ask her to elaborate, but he didn't.

“Me too,” he said finally. “I grew up in this city and I still feel like there's a lot I don't know. About living on my own.”

“Well,” Katara said, “it sounds like you're doing a pretty good job. You've done your research.”

At that, Zuko launched into further description of the finished product of Druk's terrarium, and she found she enjoyed listening to him talk.

Katara texted Suki to let her know she had left, and Zuko stopped talking about UVB lamps and looked down at her phone.

“Which friend did you come with?”

“Suki,” Katara said. “She's awesome, and she'll probably be at the gym for a while so she won't mind that I bailed.”

“Oh.” Zuko seemed to relax. Katara realized what he was asking. There was definitely a lot of history between him and Mai, and Katara was beginning to realize she didn't even know the half of it.

The neighborhood Zuko lived in was not one of the nicer ones in the city. Certainly not as nice as the one he had moved out of. In fact, it was a considerable downgrade. Zuko stopped at his apartment complex, a garden community that could hardly merit that description, with more concrete than green.

They paused on the doorstep to the apartment, and Zuko looked back at her. She realized that it was the scar that made him seem angry to her before, the way it twisted his left side so that the eye seemed stuck in a perpetual squint. But now his eyes seemed to hold something else, a curiosity and fire that Katara didn't fear, although she wondered if she should. There was a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, in which she questioned what exactly she was doing here. He stood next to her, watching her expectantly.

She fiddled with her phone in her hands, the tremor in her fingers growing worse, as it often did when she was nervous. The phone fell from her grasp, and Zuko bent to pick it up.

Before she could apologize for her stupid clumsiness, he handed it back to her, his fingers brushing hers, his gaze lingering for a moment on the scars on her hands.

“Well, we're here,” he said, his fingertips still touching hers. She did not pull away from him.

Instead of opening the door, Zuko reached around her with one hand, turning her so that her back was against the door. She could have easily slipped out of the cage of his arms if she had wanted to, but instead, Katara looked up at him, waiting. Despite his boldness, Zuko hesitated as he looked down at her, waiting for her to make a move. The abruptness of his strength, and the heat and weight of him so close to her, the smell of his sweat, made her feel out of breath. It felt good in a way that she wasn’t quite ready to admit. She managed to say, “Druk is inside, right?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, and leaned down and kissed her. 

She kissed him back, pushing herself up on her tiptoes so that she could savor it, the taste of his mouth. He drew back as her teeth grazed his lip, then leaned in again, eagerly.

It had been a while since she had been kissed, really kissed. After she had left school, Katara's dating life had been pretty much nonexistent. Not that it was all that before. But oh, she had missed being kissed. Being touched in the way that Zuko was touching her now, his hands searching but not demanding, exploring her body as she explored his.

Then, the kiss broke, and Katara felt as if she were coming up for air. Zuko's face was flushed and beautiful, hair falling into his eyes, but he seemed to sense her hesitancy, backing up slightly and allowing her to slip out of his arms.

“I'm sorry,” she said, hurriedly. “I have to go.” This was a mistake. Everything about this was a mistake. Katara grabbed her gym bag, her lips still tingling from Zuko's mouth on hers, and headed back the way she had come.

She half expected to hear him call after her, like some kind of hero in a romance novel, but of course he did not, and Katara did not look back to see if he still stood on the doorstep, watching her disappear.

-

Katara scooped a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Suki’s lap and popped a few pieces into her mouth, then spit them back out again, doubling over with laughter at something on the screen.

Suki laughed, too, more at Katara picking popcorn kernels out of her hair than at the movie, a romantic comedy that Katara had forgotten the name of.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re still single,” she said, in between giggles. Katara hurled a throw pillow at her. Her friend dodged it with olympic precision.

“Seriously,” Suki said. “You really need to put yourself out there more, Katara. How long has it been since you…?”

Katara took up her projectile again, holding it in front of her, ready to launch. She didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking.

“I mean, Sokka and I - “

“Gross,” Katara interjected loudly.

“Okay, bad example,” Suki relented. “But when was the last time you’ve been on a date? A real one?”

“I go on dates!” Katara said defensively, still holding the throw pillow in front of her, now acting as a shield.

“Since when?”

“Since…you know the other day at the gym?” Katara couldn’t help the grin that was forming on her face at the memory of the kiss, the feeling of Zuko’s mouth on hers, his body so close. The memory brought up other feelings, too, but she would deal with those later.

Suki grabbed the pillow from Katara’s hands. “You met someone at the gym? That’s where you went off to?” Her voice rose with excitement. “I knew it! Was he hot?”

“Yes,” Katara said, objectively. She would not tell Suki that she had gone to Zuko’s apartment, and then chickened out on his doorstep. She didn’t know which part was worse, the fact that it was Mai’s ex or the fact that she was, still, terminally without game.

“Did you kiss?”

Yeah. It was nice. Really nice.”

“Did you…do anything else?”

“No,” Katara sputtered, fumbling with an excuse. “I only just met him.”

“Will you see him again?”

“I don’t know,” she said, honestly. She didn’t really understand how she felt about Zuko. But she wouldn’t tell Suki that. Besides, she enjoyed the feeling of being sexy and mysterious, for once. Suki was looking at her with something almost like pride.

“Oh, come on,” Katara said, wanting to turn the conversation away from herself. “Don’t act like you can do better when you’re dating my brother.”

“Point,” Suki retorted.

Suki and Sokka were crazy about each other. It was practically sickening.

Suki might press her later for details on her new “date,” but Katara hoped she could prolong that as long as she could.

Luckily, she didn’t have to think of something else to say. The door to the apartment opened and Ty Lee bounced in, bracelets jangling on her wrists and ankles. Mai followed, dressed in a full black skirt and fishnet stockings, then a third young woman, tall with dark, straight hair and stiletto heels.

Katara suddenly felt underdressed in her t-shirt and pajama pants, feeling a popcorn kernel stuck between her teeth. Her moment of being sexy and mysterious had passed, apparently.

Mai dumped her purse on the sofa table while the other woman was telling her some story about how hard it was to find decent limo drivers in the city.

“Of course,” the woman was saying, “all I had to do was tell him who my father was, and his attitude seemed to improve just like that.” The snap she made with dark-gloved fingers to punctuate her sentence echoed sharply around them. Ty Lee stood to attention like a fox who has heard the howling of hounds. Suki frowned.

“That's what I love about going out with you, Azula. Oh, hi, Katara!” Ty Lee beamed, her rigid edges softening, but only slightly. “How did things go with Zuko?”

Katara's stomach did pirouettes, and all of them - Suki, Mai, Ty Lee, and the other woman, Azula - were watching her now, the last with slightly raised, perfectly shaped eyebrows. You wanted to be sexy and mysterious.  

But now it was all over. She had kissed Zuko, and Ty Lee knew, somehow, and was about to reveal her to everyone.

“His uncle told me you called him. Zuko came to pick up Druk, right?”

Katara relaxed. “Oh,” she said. “Right.” 

At the mention of Zuko’s uncle, Katara recalled the response to the text she had sent from Zuko's phone. Please don't contact this number.

“ You talk to Iroh?” Mai asked Ty Lee, looking vaguely amused, a departure from her normally affected apathy.

“What?” Ty Lee responded. “He makes the best tea.”

“That's cute,” Azula interjected. “I'm sure you and uncle have fascinating conversations about auras and feelings .”

For the first time since Katara had known her, Ty Lee seemed a bit put out, her bottom lip protruding slightly. She still had a bit of that frightened fox look, too. Then it passed, and she smiled again. “Yeah! We do!”

So Zuko's uncle was also Azula's uncle. This, then, had to be the sister that Zuko had spoken about before. The cruel sense of humor definitely fit. Although it was strange to her that Mai would still be close to the sister of the guy who, according to her, had completely ruined her life. She was just working through what that might mean when Mai spoke, her voice low and with just the right amount of acid to let Katara catch her meaning.

“I would think that there would be some kind of policy about letting just anyone take home animals. Aang was supposed to pick up the snake.”

Katara wondered if Mai had told Aang about her tendency towards hurling kitchenware at helpless animals. Something bristled at the back of her neck, but Azula spoke before she could think of a reply.

“People just have lower standards these days.” She sighed, gazing at Katara in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. Her disdain was different from Mai's. It was both more personal and less, somehow. Like Katara was something nasty on the bottom of her heel. “How is dear Zuzu?”

“I wouldn't know,” Katara said, her voice flat. She refused to be intimidated by this woman. Azula was very obviously used to getting the reaction that she wanted, but Katara wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “He took the snake and left. He said you told him it was dead.”

“Oh, did he?” A smile played at the corners of Azula's berry red lips. Her expression changed to an affected veneer of concern. “Well, he'll kill it in about a week, anyway. It's amazing he's been able to keep anything alive that long, except for a drug habit.”

The reference to drugs wasn’t a surprise, but it didn’t fit the person she had met twice now. “He’s been taking care of it since he was a kid, though, hasn’t he?”

Something dark passed across Azula’s face, and Katara got the impression she didn’t like being challenged. The expression was terrifying in its intensity, but it was quickly replaced by an amusement that carried no less malice.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? Uncle kept the snake while Zuko did his little stint in rehab. Iroh’s the real reason it didn’t die, after mom.”

Katara knew that this woman was just trying to rile her, but it didn’t prevent the words from twisting in her gut. Too much of it matched what she already knew to be true for it to be a lie. Again, she thought of the text from Zuko’s uncle, who at one point had had a close enough relationship with his nephew that he had kept Druk, but apparently something had happened. Just like it had with Zuko and Mai. Zuko seemed trustworthy to her, but nobody ever had their trust broken because they saw it coming.

-

A sneak peek for a later chapter, awesome artwork by @the-peregrine:

Chapter Text

Work over the next few days was busy enough that Katara didn’t have to think about Zuko and, luckily enough, Suki didn’t mention her “date” again. Nevertheless, Katara knew that she was intentionally trying to distract herself from thinking about it, with middling success.

It was late afternoon when she’d come out of the clinic, about to get in her car, when she’d noticed the box still sitting in the back seat.

The picture that she had assumed had been Zuko and an older man was still sitting on top of his things. But now, when she looked at it, she realized that the young man in the picture was far too old, and didn’t have a scar. Katara knew enough about burn scars that Zuko’s had to be at least several years old, and he would have been a lot younger when he had gotten them. She wondered if the man in the picture was Zuko’s uncle.

There was no real use in speculating about it, was there? She didn’t really know Zuko - clearly, as the conversation from the other night indicated. They had kissed, but that was it. She had no business with Mai’s deadbeat ex, and she’d already done her job as far as the boa was concerned.

But she had promised to see Druk in his new terrarium. And, if she was being honest, part of her needed to see things for herself.

She remembered how to get to Zuko’s apartment pretty easily, as it turned out, and soon she was standing on Zuko’s doorstep, cardboard box in hand.

He didn’t answer. She’d knocked, then waited several minutes, then tried again.

Maybe he wasn’t home. Maybe that was for the best. Feeling the same nervousness as the last time she had been there, she told herself to leave the box on his doorstep and go. Then someone called out to her.

“Hey.”

Katara turned around. A guy with handsome features and shaggy brown curls was peeking his head out of the apartment next door.

“Didn’t know Zuko had a girlfriend,” the young man said, emerging fully from the doorway of his apartment. “I’m Jet.” And Jet held out his hand.

“I'm not his - “ Katara protested but found her hand already engulfed in Jet's strong grip. As he shook her hand, Jet took hold of the box she was balancing with the other in one easy, fluid movement.

“Let me help you with that, sweetheart,” he cooed. Katara was about to say that she didn’t need help, but Jet already had the box, and, leaning down to lift up the edge of Zuko’s doormat, he produced a small silver key.

“Good old Zuko.” Jet grinned, turning the key in the lock and opening the door to Zuko’s apartment.

“I don’t think we should - “ Katara began, but Jet was already moving past the threshold.

“It’s cool, Zuko and I are cool.” Jet set down the box of Zuko’s things, and then immediately began rummaging in a kitchen drawer. “Poor little rich boy wouldn’t have known what to do after daddy cut him off if I wasn't there to help him out, you know?” Jet pulled a small baggie from the drawer, examining it, and Katara thought again of what Azula had said about Zuko doing drugs. Before she could see what was in it, Jet slipped it into a pocket of his jeans. He rummaged in the drawer again, pulled out a small wad of bills, and pocketed those, too. “I mean, Zuko’s cool, like I said, but you know how it is with these people. I can tell.”

Katara didn’t like the emphasis he had put on that last part. What, exactly, did this guy Jet know about her? “You’re stealing from him?”

“Hey, Zuko owes me.” Jet held up his palms in defense. “But anyway, don’t let me get in your way.”

“I’m not - “ But Jet disappeared before she could finish her thought. Katara didn’t even know what she had been about to say. What was she doing here, in Zuko’s apartment, alone?

And now that she was really alone, she found herself taking in the small kitchen, which had obviously seen better days but was nonetheless neat and clean. The entryway also served as a living/dining room, and towards the back of the tiny apartment, there was a closed door that Katara assumed led to Zuko’s bedroom.

Katara turned, and gasped.

Almost the entire side of one wall was taken up by a beautiful terrarium built out of glass and plywood, and full of greenery. Basking under the heat lamp, Druk coiled lazily. Katara reached out her hand to touch the side of the glass, and the boa flicked its tongue at her.

It seemed happy and healthy in its new enclosure, obviously a labor of love. Zuko did seem to know what he was doing.

But then there was that mysterious baggie Jet had pocketed.

Something else caught her eye. On the small square kitchen table, Katara saw a faded newspaper clipping. Not a printed article, but an actual page cut out from an old paper. The picture was of an elegantly dressed woman, smiling thinly at the camera. Above the photo, the headline of the article read, “Wife of Business Magnate Dies in Tragic Accident.”

A knife twisted in Katara’s gut, and the tremor in her hands was back.

Ursa, wife of Ozai, lost her life after a head-on collision with another vehicle. Three others were severely injured, including the couple’s thirteen year old son, Zuko, who was pulled from the blazing wreck by emergency responders. Eye witnesses have come forward claiming to have seen the vehicle driving the wrong way minutes before the crash. Zuko is currently in critical condition at Ba Sing Se Hospital. Ursa is also survived by her husband and their eleven year old daughter, Azula, who were not in the car at the time.

The words “ what really happened?” were scrawled in pen in the margin of the article.

Katara felt sick to her stomach. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and it seemed to her that the scars on them were somehow more visible, standing out against her skin.

She’d forgotten where she was, and nearly jumped when the front door of the apartment opened.

“Fuck, Jet, I told you not to come in here like this!” Zuko shouted. A moment later, Katara saw his eyes widen, his face suddenly turning an alarming shade of red. It was surprisingly cute, or would have been if she wasn’t sure she had a similar expression on her face. She’d been caught breaking into Zuko’s apartment, looking at his private things.

“Katara?”

“It’s me,” she said sheepishly. “I brought some of your stuff, and I thought I’d come and see Druk, and - “

“It’s okay,” Zuko said, “You don’t have to apologize. I did invite you in, before.” His words carried something unspoken, like an apology, although Katara supposed she was the one who should have apologized for running away the other day.

“Druk looks really happy,” she said.

“Yeah,” Zuko replied. “We both owe you a lot.” But his gaze was on the article in front of her, and Katara knew that he had guessed that she had read it.

“I lost my mom, too,” she said. “I know it doesn't help, and I'm sorry for prying, but…”

“No,” Zuko said, taking a step forward. “It does. Tell me what happened.”

“It happened when I was a kid,” Katara began. “There was a fire. I tried to - “ she hadn’t even noticed how hot the doorknob was until much later, at the hospital, when she’d woken up with her hands wrapped in bandages. And behind the door… “For a long time, I felt like I had to make up for what happened, for what I couldn’t do. There was so much to do, after mom died. Dad was a mess, and Sokka tried to be strong, but he couldn’t do everything by himself.”

And then she’d gone to medical school, thinking she could make a difference in the world. But it was too much. The pressure to be perfect. The professors who looked down at her scarred, shaking hands. She knew what they thought of her. And everyone back home still needed her so much. So, she’d dropped out.

Katara was looking down at her own hands, and looked up when she felt Zuko close to her. He was looking at her intently, not with pity, but with something like understanding.

He took her hands in his, caressing the backs with his thumbs. His hands were so warm, and gentle, as if they were touching something precious.

Almost reverently, he took her hand and brought it up to his face, and for a moment, Katara thought he was going to kiss her. But instead, he turned her hand so that her palm lay flat against his cheek, the fingers laid against his own scarred flesh, just below his left eye.

Katara let her thumb trail down across his upper lip. Then Zuko pulled her close. Katara’s hand slid down to his chest as he kissed her.

This time, when Zuko guided her towards his bedroom, she did not run away.

-

Her brother was so stupid.

Her father had known it all along. If Zuko had been smart, like her, he would have learned not to let father get inside him the way he did. Father was inside her, too, all tangled up, but she’d learned how to protect herself, what rooms to close off. That’s how she’d gotten into him, too, so that they were tangled up in each other. Zuko had never learned, though. His walls were made of straw.

And the big bad wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew his little house down.

Her father had built a house of strong bricks, but Azula had learned the weaknesses in the foundation early on. Her mother had been one of those weaknesses.

Azula had learned her father’s other weakness when he’d started calling her my dear . She’d learned it in the way he looked at her, so different from the way he looked at mother, and yet too much the same, especially after the accident.

She’d learned it in the study, when her father had drawn a line of white powder on his sideboard, setting down his glass of whiskey to dip a forefinger into the substance as he explained to her the ins and outs of what she would learn several years later was called insider trading . She watched him carefully rub the powder onto his gums. Then, father’s pupils would dilate. Sometimes he would look at her, but most of the time Azula knew he was really looking at nothing. Nothing she could see, at least. Such were the mysteries of the world.

Part of her job was to care for him when he was far away, the way mother never did. Mother couldn't know about what happened in the study, he'd told her, and Azula knew without asking that she wouldn't approve. Azula liked that it was a secret between her and father. It meant that she was special.

Eventually, they got so familiar with their routine that father would close the study door and begin talking politics, or finances, and Azula would know to get the bag of white powder from the hidden panel in the back of the third shelf from the bottom of the bookcase.

That was how she knew where to find it.

Her brother was too afraid to try it on his own. But Azula had seen their father do it enough times, and Zuko was so very eager for her to show him what their father did in the study. That secret knowledge made him feel like a man, she knew. But he was never so much a stupid boy.

He was stupid enough to let himself get caught. That was the biggest difference between Azula and Zuko.

-

Katara woke to complete darkness. Then she remembered where she was. She was in Zuko’s bed. She could feel his warmth next to her, unfamiliar but welcome. His body shifted against her, his mouth opening and a faint sound escaping from his lips, barely audible. It took her a few more seconds to realize what had woken her up.

“No,” Zuko said, softly, in a voice that didn’t sound like him. High, thin, and like someone much younger.

“Zuko?” she could see the outline of his form in the darkness. He was still asleep, lying on his side, his chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm. Then his limbs jerked and that high, pleading voice came again, louder this time. 

“No! I’m sorry! Sorry. No. Sorry!”

“Zuko!” Katara grabbed his arms as he flung them violently, trying to push whatever or whoever it was that haunted him away. “Zuko, it’s me. Wake up! You just had a bad dream.”

Zuko’s eyes shot open, wide and staring straight through her. Then recognition flooded, followed by shame.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Katara heard the echo of his nightmare voice, although he was definitely awake this time.

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling herself closer so she could stroke the hair back from his face.

He watched her silently, and she felt his body relax, but he didn’t close his eyes again.

“What happened to you?” She said, softly.

“I…” he hesitated, and Katara wondered if she had said the wrong thing. But she’d told him about mom, and he’d seemed to understand. 

After a moment, he spoke. “They said she took me. That she was driving under the influence. I don’t really remember it. A lot of things about my childhood are…fuzzy.” His brow furrowed. “But in my memories…she was kind. And wise. And she liked growing things. Plants, flowers. Animals. She got me Druk when he was a baby, but he grew too big for his terrarium.”

“And now he has a new one.” Katara smiled, and she could see Zuko smile back in the darkness, the corner of his lip nearly touching the edge of his scar.

“Thanks to you.” Zuko sighed, and pressed his face into her hair. He began to kiss the top of her head gently. Eventually he settled against her, and she could feel his breathing begin to slow as they both drifted back to sleep.

The morning was pleasantly cool as Katara woke, realizing she was alone in the bed. Slipping out from beneath the covers, she spied Zuko’s hoodie hanging over the back of a chair and slipped it on over her head. It fell past her thighs.

When she emerged from the bedroom, she found Zuko looking through the box of things she had brought. He glanced up when she entered, and a smile played on his lips as he took in the sight of her in his sweatshirt. “You look good in that,” he said, his eyes mischievous.

“Thanks,” Katara said, and took in the photo sitting on the top of the box, the one with the young man who looked so like Zuko, except without the scar. 

“That your uncle?”

“Yeah. He took care of me a lot when I was young.”

Zuko picked up the framed photo from the box. “Uncle had his own struggles, too, especially after my cousin died. Still, he was always smiling, always finding something to laugh about.” Zuko’s smile was soft, but there was bitterness behind it. “And how did I repay him?”

Katara remembered Iroh’s request not to contact him. Yet, he had told Zuko about her text. And, from the way Zuko spoke, she could tell that there was love there. His mother may be gone, but his uncle was there, and family like that was too precious to throw away.

Zuko must have seen her expression. “I…did some messed up things, when I first moved out. Hung out with a bad crowd. And Uncle…he did so much for me, growing up. And I took advantage of him, stole from him…”

Katara remembered Jet, and the baggie of something he had taken from the drawer. It’s amazing he’s able to keep anything alive that long except a drug habit.

Zuko shook his head. “I had a lot of problems as a kid. After my mom’s death. Like I said, it’s all really vague…snapshots. But I know I screwed up. I went to rehab. I got better. Then when I moved out, I met Jet, and…but I’m clean now.”

Katara could see that he needed her to believe him. It was a look she recognized, that desperation to be known for who you are, instead of what others wanted you to be.

And maybe she was a fool, but she believed him.

-

“I told you this place has the best tea in the city!” Ty Lee said excitedly as Suki and Katara perused the extensive menu. They had a comfortable window booth, and tranquil tsungi horn music permeated the air. The cafe was full of plants and the walls were decorated with ornamental images of golden dragons. The gentle trickle of water could be heard from an indoor rainwater fountain that was the central feature of the place.

Suki put down her menu. “This place is beautiful! Where did you find it?”

“A friend of a friend,” Ty Lee said, with a slight air of mystery. Mai had declined to come with them this time, complaining of a stomach bug. 

Ty Lee and Suki had become fairly close, and had even started going to yoga classes together. She wasn’t like Mai or Azula at all, yet Katara sensed from some of the things Ty Lee said that the three of them had a history that went as far back as Mai and Zuko did, at least. Everything was connected somehow, she just couldn't figure out how.

Katara felt like she was looking at a puzzle that she didn’t quite have all the pieces to. She had just enough to be able to put together some kind of picture, but she might be looking at the pieces upside down, for all she knew.

She had promised to help Zuko; or if nothing else, to believe him, which he said was already more help than he had hoped for.

Katara didn’t get any information from Ty Lee over tea, though. Instead, she waxed on about meditation poses and chakras. Apparently, drinking tea was good for maintaining spiritual balance, so there was that.

As they were finishing, an older man approached their table. Short and stout, with a grandfatherly beard and wearing an apron with the tea shop's dragon logo, he beamed at the three.

“Ah, Ty Lee. Cinnamon to warm the inner fire today, is it? One of my favorites!” The man offered to take their cups, and when he smiled, Katara realized she had seen him before, in the photo she had given back to Zuko.

“You’re Zuko’s uncle, Iroh,” she said. Suki was looking at her with surprise, and Iroh’s heavy brows lifted. Katara couldn’t tell whether he was upset at the mention of his nephew.

“Katara is the one who found Druk,” Ty Lee explained, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had materialized between them.

Iroh’s expression softened, although there was still something guarded about it. Please don’t contact this number. After a pause, he spoke. “Thank you very much, young lady, for helping to reunite my nephew with his beloved pet. The gesture is greatly appreciated."

“Druk’s doing well,” Katara pressed, ignoring the way Suki was looking at her. “And so is Zuko. He wants to see you. He wants to tell you that he’s sorry for what he did. But he’s afraid to. He thinks you’re angry with him. And you have a right to be. But…you did tell him about the text, so I know you still care about him, and you want to see him, too. Family is important, especially when you’ve lost someone. I lost my mom when I was a kid, and I’d do anything to have her back. But my dad and my brother, they need me, too, and I can’t turn my back on them. I know it’s the same with you.”

Iroh sighed. “I am not staying away because I am angry at my nephew, Miss Katara. Zuko has a complicated history. I knew that he had started asking questions about that history, just as he had years before. But this is not a conversation for this place and time.” Iroh smiled gently and finished collecting their soiled dishes, then strode off in the direction of the kitchen. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and to see dear old friends yet again.” And with that, he was gone.

Katara felt an abrupt tug at her arm, and then Suki was practically dragging her out of the booth, telling Ty Lee that the two of them were visiting the ladies’ room.

Once the door was shut behind them, Suki whirled on Katara.

“What was that about?”

“You mean, the fact that Ty Lee brought us to Zuko’s uncle’s tea shop? It’s weird, right?”

“No, I mean, you, talking like you know the guy.”

Katara looked towards the door surreptitiously, as if someone else might hear them. “Listen, Suki, there’s something really -”

“Oh, my god.” Suki gasped in horror. “That’s who you’ve been seeing.” It wasn’t a question.

“Suki, listen, I have to help him with - “

“You're dating Zuko ? As in, Mai's crazy crackhead ex, Zuko ?”

“We’re not dating. And he's not a crackhead, Suki, he got arrested for possession when he was seventeen and went to rehab.”

“Oh, told you all about it, did he?”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that I know his type, Katara. Guys like that have a way of getting you on their side, twisting you all up. They'll say anything to make themselves look better.”

“I don't think he's like that,” Katara said.

“You never do. He probably told you that sob story about his family just to get into your head.”

“I have to talk to Iroh more,” Katara shoved past Suki and emerged from the restroom, heading for the back part of the cafe.

Suki might have called after her, but she was past caring. She saw the door to the kitchen and slipped inside, nearly running into Iroh carrying a tray with several cups and saucers stacked atop it.

“Miss Katara?” Iroh questioned.

“You said Zuko had started asking questions, before. What did you mean?”

Iroh sighed, setting down his tray on the counter.

“He was asking questions about his mother, wasn’t he?”

Iroh looked down, again sighing heavily before looking back up at her. “Yes. He was.”

“And then he was sent to rehab. And he has these gaps in his memory. Something happened to him that he doesn’t remember.”

“It’s dangerous for him to be asking these questions,” Iroh said, his voice dark. “Zuko may not remember, but…my brother Ozai was not a kind man. Zuko’s lapse in memory may be a blessing. And if he has started asking questions again, then it’s dangerous for me to be contacting him, as well. As is it dangerous for you to be asking these questions.”

“But don't you want him to know the truth?”

Iroh sighed again, and the sound reminded her sharply of her father, on the days when he had missed her mother the most. “The truth. That is a precarious thing, Miss Katara. You had best be careful with it, or it may not be careful with you. Now, if you will excuse me, I have customers to attend to.”

And with that, Iroh hefted the serving tray and hurried past her out into the cafe.

Katara turned to follow, but Suki intercepted her.

“Katara! What the hell? I don't know what this is about, but whatever it is, we need to stay out of it.”

“You're right,” Katara said, defeated. Her mind buzzed with what she had just learned, but it was too much for her to deal with right now, on her own. Iroh wouldn’t talk to her, but he’d told her enough to convince her that she wouldn’t stop digging. She would just have to find another way.

Suki had clearly been expecting an argument, and when none came, her friend put on a sympathetic face. Katara wondered how Suki had interpreted the conversation, but she was too tired to argue. She let Suki put an arm around her and they joined Ty Lee in the car.

The ride home was quiet, although there was a moment after they had left the cafe when Katara's eyes met Ty Lee's in the rear view mirror, and it seemed like she had been about to say something. She didn't, though, and the moment passed as if it had never been.

Chapter Text

Over the next several days, Katara couldn’t stop thinking about her odd meeting with Iroh. The man knew more than he was letting on, that much was clear. And he'd told Katara more than he needed to, despite his warnings to her not to get involved.

The truth is a precarious thing. You had best be careful with it, or it may not be careful with you.

A bit of googling later, and Katara found the exact article she had read at Zuko's apartment. The picture of Ursa stared back at her, secrets hidden in that close-mouthed smile and deep set eyes. Worried eyes, Katara realized as she examined the photo. At first glance, one might assume the picture showed happier times. Now, thinking about what Iroh had said, Katara wondered if there were happier times.

There was also a picture of Zuko, thirteen years old at the time of the crash. Katara stared at the picture of the boy, so different without the scar that marred half of his face. She might have reached out her hand and touched the place where the wound would be. This unmarked, younger version looked even more like his cousin. There was something about the eyes, though. Those eyes held a childish innocence, now replaced by the wariness of adulthood, and yet it was still Zuko, staring back at her.

There was something else, too. Something that echoed his mother's expression. Something that Katara could almost hear , but she couldn’t understand the words.

She googled the name of Zuko's father and found a string of websites, articles, and think pieces about Ozai and the company he founded. From what Katara could tell, FireCorp was the umbrella of a number of other companies. What they actually did, she could not have said, although they seemed to be involved in a little of everything. She did find one link that caught her eye.

It was a defunct blog with the title “Exposing FireCorp.” There were only a handful of posts, and the last one was dated about five years ago.

From what Katara gathered, the poster had some kind of grudge against the company. There were alarming claims of insider trading and offshore accounts, but the post seemed little more than an incomprehensible rant with no evidence to back it up. Then the poster began to reference Ozai's personal life. They claimed to have intimate knowledge of Ozai purchasing controlled substances, frequenting exclusive nightclubs and paying for prostitutes, even before the passing of his wife. Everyone involved had supposedly been paid off with hush money. Ozai was very careful to keep his reputation clean in the public eye, or so the blog claimed. But behind closed doors, he was a cruel man who ruled his family with an iron fist. A few sex workers had even come forward with claims of mistreatment, but nothing had ever come of the allegations.

Katara pressed the back button to her previous search, and clicked on another article about the crash. This one claimed the toxicology report showed the presence of cocaine in Ursa's blood system.

Her phone buzzed on the desk next to her, causing her to jump.

It was a text message from Zuko.

Katara, I remembered something. Please come over.

Katara knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She waited on Zuko's doorstep for what was only minutes when she checked her phone, yet it seemed like hours. She had the sinking feeling in her gut that something was terribly wrong. Remembering the other day, she felt under the edge of the doormat and sure enough, found the key.

When she opened the door, the apartment was dark. Her eye was drawn to the terrarium along the back wall, where Druk coiled peacefully.

Then she saw the limp form collapsed on the kitchen floor.

“Zuko!”

She ran to him. He was face down, but as she turned him, she saw that he was breathing rapidly, his eyes staring at her, pupils dilated, unseeing. Then she saw the needle in his arm. Her trembling fingers grasped at it.

She was only a little girl again, grasping at a burning doorknob.

“Zuko, can you hear me?”

He was conscious, but barely responsive. Carefully, she rolled him onto his side and checked his pulse. She could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, as though it might burst. Her own was in her throat, and it stayed there while she waited for the ambulance to arrive.

In the endless, searing moments as she waited with him, pressing cold compresses to his forehead and wiping his neck and arms to try and keep his temperature down, she noticed something on the kitchen table, next to the article about Zuko's mom. A manilla file, and inside it was printed Ba Sing Se Hospital and Zuko's name across the top. Medical records.

Without a second thought, Katara took the file and slipped it into her bag before she heard the wail of the ambulance.

-

Katara opened her eyes, sensation slowly returning to her aching body. She had fallen asleep in one of the hospital chairs, the gentle beat of the heart monitor lulling her to wakefulness. Then she heard the sounds of conversation, voices elevated in excitement or argument.

Mai and Aang were standing by Zuko's bedside, blocking her view of him. From the sound of it, though, he was awake, his voice hoarse but clearly agitated.

“I didn't overdose. I’ve been clean for six months. Mai, you have to believe me.”

From where she was, the only thing Katara could see of Zuko was the shape of the lower half of his body between the hospital blanket, and Mai's hand over his atop it. A loving gesture that seemed to her absurd, considering everything Mai had ever said about her ex.

Now, Mai's voice was calm and soothing, and protective. It didn't sound like her at all. Nothing made sense, and her head was pounding. Katara felt anger mixed with a mounting sense that things were happening that she didn’t understand.

“You don't remember, baby. Like before.”

Katara forced herself to sit up so that she could see Zuko's face, her body aching in protest as she did so.

He was lying propped up by hospital pillows. He was awake, but his face looked drawn and his eyes seemed unfocused.

She watched Zuko's forehead wrinkle in confusion as he craned his head, and she realized they were all standing on his scarred side. His voice was strange. They’d probably given him a sedative. “No. There was…there was someone…in my apartment…”

Then he saw Katara, and Mai and Aang both shifted to follow his gaze.

“You were there…” Zuko said weakly.

Mai eyed her with something that Katara thought might be disdain, or surprise, or a little of both. Then the look was gone and she turned back to Zuko.

“You’re lucky Druk’s vet came by and found you. You can’t do this alone, Zuko. You need help. I’m here for you, baby.” She reached a hand to Zuko’s forehead and brushed his hair, the way Katara had a few days ago. He seemed too tired to protest, his face pale and eyes bloodshot. There was something wild in his features, too. Like a trapped animal. Was it the drug still in his system? Katara wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore, a tiny voice in her head whispered.

“That’s right,” Aang chimed in, catching Mai’s other hand. “We’ll help you through everything.”

“No,” Zuko said again, a little too loudly in the sterile room, recoiling from Mai’s touch. “I can’t go back, I can’t.” 

“Zuko, calm down -”

He glared angrily at Aang. “Who the fuck are you?”

A nurse peered in from the hallway, alarmed at the commotion.

“Leave Aang alone, Zuko,” Mai said, sternly. “All he wants to do is help. He’s offered to take Druk. That snake’s been agitating you, I know it. Spending all your time building that ridiculous terrarium…it’s keeping you connected to your past, can’t you see that?”

“You can’t take Druk!” Katara said, standing.

“And what would you know about anything?” Mai said, stepping towards Katara and in between her and Zuko.

The nurse who had been hovering in the doorway stepped in, concern etched into her features. She was young, but her expression was all business and no nonsense. Katara could see the name “Jin” written on her badge.

“I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask that only the family be here. Zuko needs to rest and regain fluids.” She looked at each of them in turn.

“I'm his girlfriend,” Mai said right away. “I know the family. They're on their way.”

Katara and Aang both turned to Mai at the same time. Aang mouthed the word girlfriend and stared at Katara like he expected her to say something in his defense. She did not.

Katara opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to say something to justify her existence in this room, but couldn't think of anything to say. Even saying she was Druk's vet was too generous a description.

“No.” Zuko said suddenly. His voice was shaky and hoarse, and Katara could see the tremor in his clenched fist. “Not you…” He wrenched his hand away from Mai. “Katara.”

Katara’s heart went out to him, but she stayed where she was.

Nurse Jin looked skeptically at each person in the room, clearly trying to make a judgment based on the patient's level of unrest.

“I've had a lot of experience dealing with addicts,” Aang said, looking sorrowful.

Addicts. Zuko had never lied to her about being an addict. Could she have really been that stupid?

“I'm a licensed counselor…” Aang was saying.

“Get out!” Zuko shouted hoarsely. Aang stepped back in alarm. Zuko glared at him for a moment, then lay back against the pillows, shutting his eyes as though the effort had exhausted what last bit of energy he had.

In the end, Jin ended up shooing them all out into the waiting room, but not before turning to Katara apologetically.

“Thank you for calling,” she said, sincerely. “You saved his life.”

Once outside, Katara sat down, groaning at her sore muscles. Aang and Mai sat down in the comfortable chairs across the room. Mai stared at her, arms crossed in defiant boredom. After a while, Aang stood up and began looking around at the various brochures and magazines around the room.

“Sit down, Aang,” Mai hissed in irritation. Aang sat, awkwardly, looking put out.

Something poked the inside of her arm, and Katara suddenly remembered the file she had stuck in her bag. Zuko's medical records. While Aang seemed preoccupied with the vending machines and Mai stood by him with vague annoyance, Katara angled herself away from them and pulled out the file.

Then she saw it. The record of Zuko's hospitalization after the accident. A small note had been made in the margins.

Burns on the patient’s face are not consistent with injuries resulting from the collison, but appear to have been caused hours earlier, by contact with a heated object, such as a hot stove or iron.

Katara stared at it, wondering how such a notation could have been overlooked.

A door opened across the waiting room from the direction opposite Zuko's room, and Katara looked up to see a familiar face.

Iroh saw her and gave her a kind smile, although his face was drawn and pale. She must look similarly, she supposed, given that she had slept in a hospital chair all night.

“Miss Katara,” he said, in greeting. “I hear you are the one who found my nephew. I must thank you once again for-”

The door opened a second time, and in walked another person Katara recognized. 

The tall, dark haired woman that she had been introduced to as Zuko's sister strode into the room without glancing at any of them, her high heels clicking a demanding rhythm across the linoleum floor.

Behind her was a man Katara had only seen in photographs, but she recognized him instantly. Zuko's father was broad-shouldered and trim in a black suit and black silk shirt, his dark hair tied up in a slick topknot. He looked stern, and Katara was surprised to find quite a bit of Zuko in his face, remembering how he had looked to her on the day she had met him, when he'd strode into the clinic with an intensity and single-mindedness that had put her on edge. This man frightened her. Although there was one thing that distinguished the face from Zuko's. This man's skin was unblemished, and only the faintest wrinkles could be seen at the edges of his mouth, the vaguest hint of crow's feet to mark the passing of age. And he didn't smile, nor did he so much as glance at anyone beyond his daughter as he followed her straight into the patient's wing.

Iroh made a small bow and silently bid Katara goodbye, then hurried to join his family. Mai and Aang had both stopped what they were doing to watch, and Katara saw Azula glance back at her friend before the nurse ushered them down the hallway towards Zuko's room.

Katara had wanted to tell Iroh what she had found. The nurse, someone . The medical record was from a decade ago, but what Iroh had said before kept echoing in her head. The news reports, and the blog about Ozai. All of it seemed to point to a conclusion that Katara found horrifying, if true.

Zuko's injury had happened before the crash. The burn scars had been consistent with contact with a heated object, such as a hot stove or iron. That meant…

Katara didn't know if it was lack of sleep making her think this way, but Zuko had told her that he had remembered something right before his overdose. It couldn't have been a suicide attempt, not when he had obviously taken steps to try and find answers.

Or maybe this was all in her head. Maybe she just didn't want to admit that she had been wrong, that she had put her trust in Zuko, believed him, and he had turned out to be just a junkie after all.

After a while, the door opened, and Katara found her chance, intercepting the nurse as she crossed the hallway from Zuko’s room.

“What? Where did you get that?” Nurse Jin asked, eyeing the file in Katara's hand suspiciously. “Those are confidential medical records that don't belong to you.”

Aang and Mai were both watching her. “Katara…” Aang began, but she ignored him.

“They belong to Zuko,” Katara said, firmly, holding the file open, flipping to the page with the note about the crash. “And in them -”

“And you're his…vet? I'm sorry, but I'll need to take those.” Jin held out her hand, and Katara had no choice but to hand the file over.

“Please,” she said. “Take a look at them. The burns on his face…”

The nurse gave her a sympathetic look, and closed the door in Katara’s face.

Katara looked back at Aang and Mai, who sneered at her and stormed off down the hallway, bidding Aang to follow.

-

The nurse gave him red jello to eat that was somehow both too watery and too rubbery, and Zuko dutifully ate as much of it as he could, which wasn't much. He had just set down the spoon, hard, in frustration, where it had bounced off the plastic food tray and clattered to the floor, when the door to his hospital room opened.

His sister made a small noise of disgust that incorporated the metal spoon on the floor, and his presence in the bed. Zuko smoothed his hospital blankets and glared at her, warily.

His father was standing behind her, followed by Uncle, who was chatting amicably with the nurse.

Zuko longed to talk to Iroh. To…what? Apologize? Explain? Hadn’t he already done that, before? His uncle would forgive him, maybe even cry over him like last time. His father was standing in the doorway, and Ozai’s expression made it clear that he, at least, had already judged Zuko guilty.

The nurse chuckled at something Iroh had said and bent to pick up the spoon on the floor. Zuko felt the lump in his throat growing. He wanted to bolt out the door, to shout, but he was so tired. Iroh moved tentatively to the right side of the bed, but said nothing. His father and sister remained on his left.

“So,” Ozai said, his voice low, “I see you have found your way back to the hole you insist on digging for yourself.”

The nurse - her name was Jin, he remembered - looked sideways at him with sympathy as she collected the dishes and tray from his lunch.

“I didn't…”

“Ozai…” Uncle’s voice. Zuko almost told him not to bother.

“Didn't what ?” His father said, his voice still in that quiet, measured tone, completely ignoring his brother. “Didn't stick the needle in your arm? Do you think I don't know where you've been all this time, Zuko? What you've been doing? The kinds of friends you've been hanging out with?

Zuko flinched at the knowledge that his father had been keeping tabs on him. Of course his father had been keeping tabs on him. He sat up, his body protesting against the action, all his anger rising suddenly to the surface. “I…there was someone…Katara…”

Katara was in his apartment. He remembered that much. Katara had been with him. The ambulance. Someone had been there when he had come home. He remembered the day he had found Katara in his apartment. No, that was a different day. He'd called out to her, and then…

“Who?” Ozai’s eyes narrowed. “One of your little druggie friends? It’s always someone else, isn’t it Zuko?”

“No!” He was distantly aware that Uncle was holding his arm, trying to hold him back.

“The thing I don’t understand is,” Azula said, everyone in the room turning to where she still stood in the doorway. She cocked her head to the side, addressing him. “Were you trying to kill yourself, Zuko, or are you just stupid?”

The IV yanked itself out of his arm and trailed onto the floor. Zuko glared at her. “Get. Out.”

-

The door to the hospital room opened with a crash. Katara looked up.

“He’s my son, of course I know what’s best for him,” Ozai was shouting at the nurse, towering over her. Nurse Jin, to her credit, seemed unmoved.

“I’m sorry, but my patient is an adult, and allowed to make his own decisions. And right now, you are agitating my patient.”

“Make his own decisions?” Ozai scoffed, and Katara could almost see the spittle flying from his mouth. “My son is an addict, and not well. You can clearly see that.”

“Since that is so,” Iroh said, a head shorter than his brother but with no less presence, “I suggest we take the young lady’s advice and allow him to recover from his ordeal. I do wonder if the cafeteria offers hot tea,” He made no move to leave, however, his eyes on his brother.

The nurse looked between the two with a quizzical and exasperated expression.

Ozai glared at his brother, his expression murderous. A second later, he pulled a buzzing phone out of his pocket. “I don’t have time for this nonsense,” he said, answering the phone and stalking off down the hallway, speaking to whoever was on the other end in sharp, authoritarian tones.

“I think I’ll take that cup of tea,” Iroh said to Jin.

-

Katara, sitting alone in the waiting room, turned to see Mai leaning against the wall a few feet from her, arms folded. She looked angry. Aang was nowhere to be seen.

Katara could see, with sudden shock, that she had been crying, her dark mascara making violent rivulets down her pale cheeks. “You should have just left things alone,” she said. “He was happier not remembering.”

“But he does remember,” Katara said. “And you can’t take that away from him. He deserves to know the truth.”

Mai’s makeup stained face twisted into a sneer, but instead of saying anything, she stood, then turned her back on Katara, her heavy combat boots stomping down the fluorescent-lined hallway, calling for Aang.

Katara sat for what felt like hours. 

Then the police came.

-

The thing was, she hadn’t actually meant to kill mother.

How many times had she watched her father’s mind depart to elsewhere, after he’d consumed the white powder? He had always come back, in the end.

Even Zuko had come back. The second time, Azula had made sure to get the dosage right.

She had always been a fast learner.

She hadn’t wanted mother to die, just to stop her. She’d panicked, she could admit that now to herself.

It was all Zuko’s fault, really, for making father angry. But father had never hurt Zuko that badly before. Then mother wanted to take him to the hospital. Azula knew that she couldn't let mother take Zuko, let her tear their family apart like that. Dad would be in trouble. If only the stove hadn't been on, if only Zuko hadn't made him so angry .

She had to act.

So she’d gotten the white powder from where father had hid it, and mixed it into the smelly herbal tea that mother was always drinking. She’d been so distraught over Zuko that she hadn’t even noticed.

They’d been in high school when Zuko had started asking questions. They’d lived without their mother for so long, she didn’t know why he had to suddenly go digging. So she’d planted the drugs, faked an overdose. It wasn’t like it was hard. Zuko had been caught before. Nobody believes a stupid, drugged up teenage boy . Eighteen months in rehab and a prescription for antipsychotics later, and poor Zuzu didn’t even believe himself.

She actually felt sorry for him. She did. None of it was what she wanted. It all just happened . It was what had to happen. To protect the family.

They had all forgotten her, even father, when Zuko had started yelling again. As if that would convince anyone that he wasn't crazy. The nurse had given him something to make him go to sleep, and then she was alone with her dear, bedridden brother.

He was breathing softly now, his head turning to one side every so often, mouth parted to let out a tiny sigh, but for the most part, his sleep remained undisturbed. Azula flicked his exposed wrist, just to make sure. It fell back without a twitch.

It would only take a small injection.

She wouldn't let Zuko do this to their family. She wouldn't . Not again. Not ever.

She’d worn gloves, like before, so of course no one would trace it back to her.

At least, they wouldn't have.

When the door opened, that insipid little nurse was there, followed by two men in police uniforms.

“Where’s father?” she asked them, feeling like the little girl she hadn’t been in a long, long time. Not understanding at first why they were there.

Nurse Jin allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

-

When Katara woke up, she was alone in bed.

Coming out into the kitchen, she felt a brief feeling of deja vu as she passed Druk's terrarium and walked up behind Zuko, busy frying eggs. She approached him from the right side, enfolding him in a warm embrace.

He turned to peck her on the cheek before going back to breakfast. Katara saw his laptop open on the kitchen table.

She froze for a moment, reading the headline of the article, dated four years ago. The picture of the smoking shell of the apartment building felt like it had been ripped from her memories. From her nightmares.

Child of Victim in Tenement Fire, Now All Grown Up, Testifies Against Serial Arsonist

“I think I'm ready to testify against my sister now, and my dad.”

Katara turned, taking his hand as he served them both eggs and bacon.

“I'm okay,” he said, returning her gesture. “I just…reading about what you did. I think it gave me the courage to do the same thing.”

“It's different when it's your family,” Katara said quietly.

“Yeah.” Zuko's voice was hard. “And she's his victim, too. Just like my mom was. That's what's so fucked up about it.”

“You were a victim, too.”

“...I know that. Now.” His expression was pained. “But for so long I was just…so stupid. The drugs. I couldn't protect them. Not my mom, or my sister.”

“Someone should have protected you, too.”

Zuko shut his eyes, leaning his forehead on her shoulder. They'd had this conversation before. It was so like one she'd had before, with someone else. Back then, she'd been lucky, to have a father who would listen when she wept, to take the blame when she blamed herself for her mother's murder. To have a brother who would remind her of her own strength in the days that led up to the trial against Yon Rah.

She knew Zuko was strong enough, but she also promised she would be there to remind him that he was, of what he had survived. Both of them were still standing.

Katara held him. There was more that they would have to face before things were through. And perhaps old scars never really would go away, but at least the scars were proof that they had survived, that they'd healed.