Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘I’m sorry Katara,’ Aang said, his heart clenched as he turned his back on the fight. On her. HIt took his entire will power, as he bent the crystals over himself, into a little shelter. Aang’s mind raced with fear, he had to let her go, to whatever fate may await her. Otherwise they may never make it out of the catacombs. She could take care of herself, he knew, he could only win this fight as the Avatar, not Aang. He sat on the cool hard floor, focusing on his avatar spirit, trying to block out the sounds of the battle happening around him. I have to let her go, he thought. Soon the outside world faded away.

On the outside, The fire siblings and Katara were in a heated battle. The Dai Lee were attacking her from all sides. Even in her octopus form, she could tell it was not enough. She couldn’t lose, she just had to hold on for a little longer. Just until Aang entered the Avatar State. She was so proud. And so tired. The blow to her head had left her in a daze, and she was having trouble concentrating on the fight. Her body was giving out. Come on Katara, She thought, Just a little longer. Aang, where are you? 

She noticed a glow, coming from the crystal, oh Aang, you’ve come so far, Pride surged through her and filled her with strength. Suddenly, a sharp flame brushed her shoulder. Hissing in pain she was brought back to the fight at hand. She barely had time to draw water to block the next attack. Then Katara saw Azula, her eyes focused on Aang’s shelter. A horrible, gut feeling washed over Katara. She inched closer to him, prepared to defend him with her life. There were too many, the Dai Lee hit her from each side, and everytime she took one down, another rose in their place. 

Katara’s eyes locked briefly with Zuko’s. Through the haze of her rage, she missed the apology in his gaze—the way he’d stopped fighting.

“You’re still protecting him? Even now?”

“I have to”

“Then, watch this”

With a maniacal cackle, Azula shot a bolt of lightning at the shelter, just as it shattered and a glowing Aang floated out. 

For one fragile second, Katara forgot the fight. All she saw was Aang—her Aang—becoming something more.

And Azula, watching the moment unfold, took her chance, locking eyes with her brother, she fired another brutal shot, 

Everything happened in slow motion. Katara could hear the crack of the bolt as it left Azula's fingertips, see the blinding flash of blue lightning streaking across the battlefield, headed straight for Aang.

And in that instant—she knew .

He wouldn't survive it.

Not this close, not like this.

Her body moved before her heart could catch up

"NO!"

With a final surge of strength, Katara whipped her arms upward, summoning every last drop of water she could from the cracked stone floor beneath her. The column of water roared to life, catching the bolt mid-air—too late to stop it completely, but just enough to redirect it.

Straight into her.

Pain exploded through her chest.

Her body seized, mouth open in a silent scream. The lightning tore through her like fire and ice—ripping through every nerve, every muscle. Her body collapsed as it convulsed and twitched before the world went black. 

Aang didn’t see her get hit, he felt it through his body.

 A jolt ripped through his entire being, a tremor not of the physical world, but of something deeper.
The stillness he'd cultivated, the balance he’d fought to maintain, shattered in an instant.

His eyes snapped open.
The glow faded from his tattoos like the sun disappearing behind clouds. 

“No” he whispered because the fight no longer mattered. All that mattered was her . 

He turned around to see her on the ground, still twitching, smoke curling from her body. 

“KATARA”, he yelled, collapsing to his knees beside her. His breath came out in ragged gasps as he took her in. Her eyes were closed, her face pale and contorted in pain, pain that she seemed to feel even in this state. But nothing prepared him for the awful wound. He could see the middle of her chest completely singed and the burns through her arm from where the lightning exited her body.

“Why would you do this” He whispered, tears leaking from his eyes. 

“No no no, Please,” His hands hovered helplessly right over the terrible wound before settling on her face, caressing it gently. It was still warm.

He could feel Dai Lee and Azula closing in on him, ready to make the final blow. Suddenly, anger coursed through him, these monsters hurt the only family he had left. Zuko was standing back, uncertainty on his face, but Aang could only feel hatred. 

The Avatar State won’t come to him now, but he was still the Avatar, 

The cavern shook. Cracks split across the ceiling. Dust billowed through the air like smoke—thick, choking.  Dai Li agents were slammed into the walls by arcs of raw air, screaming as they crumpled. Azula stumbled back, her face contorted with shock—maybe even fear—as the boy she thought broken stood with a power that burned. 

Aang stepped in front of Katara’s crumpled form, “ stay away from her” 

Azula smirked, “Oh, look whos angry now” 

Aang’s only answer was a blast of wind that sent her skidding across the stone floor, cracking a pillar as she smashed into it. The Dai Li rallied again, forming stone fists—but Aang didn’t wait. He leapt, spun, landed hard, and sent a quake through the cavern that threw their footing into chaos.

Zuko didn’t move.

He stood in the shadows, watching—mouth open, frozen between loyalty and regret. 

Aang's breath was ragged, his eyes flashing with fury and anguish. His whole body shook with the weight of everything—the guilt, the rage, the sense of helplessness that had kept him from fighting until now. But Katara... Katara was more than his friend. She was more than his ally. She was his heart, his strength. 

“STAY AWAY FROM HER” Aang's booming voice cracked through the cavern, as a massive wave of earthbending sent boulders and crystals flying. 

Azula, with her bleeding cheek pushed herself up, eyes gleaming with amusement and annoyance . That her plan had been thwarted by this filthy peasant. “You think this power means anything” “You're just a child, a broken child,” “You’ve lost this battle and you know it” She taunted, each word adding to Aang’s rage. As he prepared for a brutal blow, the side of the cavern exploded and suddenly General Iroh was there. The old man stood between Aang and Katara, and Zuko and Azula and Dai Li. “Avatar, you must stop this” He said in a commanding voice, "You've got to get out of here!" "I'll hold them off as long as I can!" 

Aang looked down at Katara and realized the General was right. Trembling, he scooped the waterbender up into his arms, cradling her closely, and with one final look toward General Iroh holding off their foes, Aang summoned his strength, and used his airbending to launch himself and Katara into the air, hopping over rock and stone to the nearby waterfall which would hopefully lead them out. He could hear shouting and roars of rage behind him as the battle began anew, but the sounds grew more and more distant as he climbed higher and higher up the waterfall. Until at last, silence. 

The surface was peaceful, as the citizens did not know yet of the tragedy that had befallen. Soon they would learn that the great city had fallen and their lives were in terrible danger. But Aang didn’t care about that. He clutched Katara tightly as he focused on her too far apart breaths that meant she was alive. Using airbending, he pulled both of them onto a tall building, scanning the skies for the rest of the group. For Appa, and Toph and Sokka, oh Sokka I’m so sorry. He dug his bison whistle from his tattered robes and blew hard. They must have been close by for moments, Appa’s silhouette appeared and allowed them to climb on. Aang was greeted with surprise to see that the rest of the group was already here. 

Sokka spoke first, chearful, “You guys finally made it! What took you so long? I can't wait to tell you what happened…… We were thrown in a cage and..” 

His voice cut of as he saw who was in Aang’s arms. His baby sister limp, unconscious, with vicious burns all over her. 

“Katara” he whispered face draining of colour. “KATARA”

“What happened Aang” Sokka asked, voice trembling with panic. “How… What….”

Aang looked up, eyes red-rimmed and hollow. “She… she saved me. Azula—lightning—and she just—she got in the way—”

Toph gasped, eyes wide with horror “She took the bolt, on purpose”

“She’s breathing,” Aang said quickly, desperately, “but it’s—it’s bad, Sokka—”

Sokka held his arms out, "Please Aang, Give her to me"

Aang hesitated clutching her tighter, as if letting go ment she would disappear. But this was her brother…

Sokka’s arms were out trembling, and reluctantly, Aang placed Katara into Sokka’s arms with reverence, like she was something sacred. Something beloved by them both.

He cradled her close to his chest, like he used to when she had nightmares feeling her heartbeat, the one indication that she was alive. “Your okay, your okay, I’ve got you now” He whispered, rocking her gently. Pressing his chin to her hair, repeating those words like a mantra. “I’m never letting you go again”

 Toph sat frozen, her fists clenched tight in her lap. She couldn’t see the burns, couldn’t watch the damage like the others—but she could feel the labored rhythm of Katara’s heart through the vibrations on Appa’s saddle. It was faint and uneven. 

Toph’s voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling: “I’m… scared she’s fading.”

Sokka’s breath caught. “No. No, she’s not. She’s strong. She’s gonna be okay. She has to be.”

Toph didn’t argue, she couldn’t, she needed to believe that too. “Yeah, she’s strong”, not one for comforting words, she crawled over and placed a hand on Katara’s back, taking comfort in her heartbeat and letting her know that she’s here.  Toph pressed her palm firmly to Katara’s ribs, feeling for the pulse. It was weak. Stumbling.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare leave us.”

Aang watched them both, hollowed out, arms limp at his sides. He wanted to reach for Katara again, to hold her hand or touch her hair, but he didn’t move. She wasn’t his to hold right now.

She was Sokka’s little sister. And Toph’s best friend. And the strongest person he knew. And she had almost died because of him.

“Sokka…” He whispered, voice breaking

“Sokka I’m so so sorry”

“Don’t Aang, Don’t do that to yourself” 

“She shouldn't have done that, I shouldn’t have let her”

With a steely look in his eye Sokka said “It was her choice, She chose to do it . We both know no one can change her mind ""Don’t hate yourself for this, she won’t want that, and it’s not what she needs.” 

Aang just looked down at his hands, ashamed.

“Do you understand me” Sokka demanded

A small nod, 

“We need to get out of here” Said Toph, “Katara needs help, fast”

“Where can we go” Asked Aang,

“I think Dad is still at Chameleon Bay, they probably know what to do”

The night was freezing, the wind bitter.

Appa soared high into the clouds, as if trying to rise above the pain below—the war, the battle, the smoke still curling from Katara’s wounds.

Katara didn’t stir.

Sokka and Aang sat at her sides, draping her with a blanket, trying to give her their body heat. Toph sat at the end of the saddle, her face pale, focusing on her heartbeat. 

“It’s so slow” She whispered

“What?”

“Her heartbeat. It’s there, but it’s fading” There was a poignant pause after her words. No one wanted to believe them. Not even Toph.

“She’s going to be fine” Sokka said finally, “She’s just resting” But even he sounded unsure

Sokka set Katara down gently and recoiled at the burnt smell rising from her clothes.

Suddenly Aang gasped, noticing the vial of spirit water around her neck. It shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

“The spirit water” he said, gently taking it of her neck, “She still has it”

Sokka gasped, “Aang you can heal her!” The airbender froze, then looked at Sokka helplessly. "I- I don't-" He grit his teeth, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "I can't heal, Sokka. You know that!" 

Toph spoke up “But she said that it has special properties, maybe it will work.” 

“I-I can try” Aang said

“She just needs you to try. Please.” Sokka said, his eyes shimmering with gratitude. He got up and sat at Appa’s head, giving the two space and trying to steer them to Chamelion Bay.

Aang took a shaky breath, bending the water into his hands cupping it the way he’d seen Katara do hundreds of times. He wasn't a healer, but he could try. He held his breath as he moved the water over her burns. “Please work, Please” He said again and again, as if saying the words could make it true. 

At first nothing happened, he held the water over her burns like she used to do gentle soothing motions. Toph kept her hand planted firmly on the saddle, searching for a change, any sign that it was working. 

Sokka, from his place on Appa’s head, glanced occasionally over his shoulder, searching for any sign that his little sister is okay.

But.. there was nothing. Katara remained still, the pained expression not leaving her face, even as the glowing water ran over the angry red burns. 

A moment passed, then another, 

Then suddenly, her body jerked slightly, steam rising from the wound. “K-Katara” Aang gasped, hardly wanting to believe. 

He didn’t stop. The water moved like he remembered from all the times he’d watched her heal. His hands followed the curve of her shoulder, the burn on her arm, the place over her heart where the lightning had struck. Tears streamed from his eyes. 

And then, a soft groan, Aang almost missed it. 

“Her heartbeat - it’s a little stronger” Toph exclaimed, elated

His breath caught in his throat.

Katara’s lashes fluttered. 

“Katara” Aang tried again “Katara can you hear me? You're safe now”

Katara's eyes fluttered open—just barely. Her gaze was unfocused, glassy, but the sight of her beautiful eyes made Aang let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His forehead dropped to the back of her hand with a choked laugh that was half sob, half relief.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re still with us.”

Her lips parted slightly, her voice no more than a breath. “Hurts…” 

“I know, I know,” He said, brushing a curl from her face and cupping her cheek with his hand. “I’m so sorry. Just hang on for a bit. We’re taking you to your dad okay. He’ll know what to do.” Katara’s eyes fluttered open—just barely. Her gaze was unfocused and glassy, drifting for a moment before settling on Aang.

“Why are you crying?” she asked softly, her voice faint.

Aang let out a shaky breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t crying,” he said, his voice wobbling with emotion. He gave a small, rough laugh. “You’re the one who jumped in front of lightning. What were you thinking?”

She winced again, and her hand gripped his a little tighter.

“You always save everyone,” She rasped “Thought it was my turn”

Aang brought his forehead to her knuckles, squeezing his eyes shut. “You shouldn’t have had to protect me. Not like that.”

Toph reached forward, her fingers brushing Katara’s shoulder. “You scared us, you know,” she said, trying to sound casual—but her voice broke halfway through.

Sokka’s fingers brushing her hair back, like he used to do when they were children and she had nightmares. 

“You’re so stupid Katara” He whispered “Why would you do that?”

Katara turned her head slightly. “Did… we win?”

Sokka gave a sad laugh. “We’re still alive, so… close enough.”

The sky begins to lighten as they approach Chameleon Bay, the first rays of dawn casting a soft glow over the landscape. Appa’s wings beat slower now, as the bison grows tired from the long flight. But even in this moment, as they reach the safety of Chameleon Bay, it’s hard for the group to find comfort.

They land near a small village at the edge of the bay, the peaceful sounds of the water lapping against the shore a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers in the air. Aang jumps down first, his legs unsteady as he reaches out to scoop Katara into his arms. Sokka follows closely behind, his eyes never leaving his sister.

Her voice was barely audible, but the word still cut through the silence.

“Dad…”

Sokka let out a shaky breath. Aang closed his eyes.

She was still fighting. And she wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

The shoreline was eerily quiet. No boats rocked in the bay, no laughter or voices carried across the wind. Just the crash of distant waves and the creaking of Appa’s saddle straps as the bison touched down.

“Something’s wrong,” Sokka said, already sliding off. His eyes scanned the empty village, the abandoned campfires, the driftwood barricades with no guards in sight. “They should be here.”

Aang followed with Katara still in his arms, his heart pounding. There was no time for wrong. She needed help— now.

“We can’t wait for anyone to come”, Aang said

“Katara needs help now”

“Let’s work with what we have for now,” Sokka muttered, already jogging toward the nearest shelter.

They found the largest tent still standing — a commander’s tent, judging by the supplies strewn across the floor: maps, water skins, torn fabric. Sokka shoved the flaps open and Aang rushed inside, gently lowering Katara onto a bedroll that still smelled faintly of salt and soot.

She was barely conscious now, her eyes half lidded and her skin calmly. Aang could tell, the pain was settling in, as the initial shock of the battle wore off. Her forehead was scrunching up and her hands clenching. The sight made Aang's heart break.

“There’s gotta be things in the camp”, Aang said, “Medical supplies, or other things they left behind,”

“I’ll take a look”, Toph said, rushing out of the tent. 

She stepped out of the tent, feeling for supplies, but her usual bravado felt hollow in the silence. The stillness of the camp pressed down like a heavy weight. 

Where was the water tribe? As she ruffled through tents. The memory of Katara’s faint heartbeat echoed in her mind — so fragile, as if she could slip away right then and - Toph almost dropped the rags she collected. 

Her hands trembled, at the thought. How could Katara, who was always the steady, driving force, just slip away. Just like that.  

A cold knot of fear tightened in her stomach. For the first time since she learned earthbending, she felt helpless. THe crushing feeling of not being able to protect someone she cared about.

The camp’s eerie emptiness mirrored the gnawing panic she felt. But she forced herself to breathe, grounding herself with the steady pulse of the earth beneath her feet. 

“No,” she whispered, jaw clenched. “Not like this. Katara’s not done fighting — and neither am I.” 

And she continued ripping through tents, looking for anything, anything to help her best friend. 

Meanwhile, in the commander’s tent, Sokka was frantically searching through crates and baskets for anything that could help.

“I need rags,” Aang yelled, “And water - boiling,”  

Sokka tore open another crate, hands shaking as he rifled through its contents. “We’ve got some linens—looks clean—maybe salve in this jar, I can’t read the label. Oh! I found a pot. We can use it to boil water” 

“Just bring everything,” Aang said, not looking up. “We don’t have time to guess.”

Aang was already ripping open the Katara' s sleeve, fingers trembling. His breath caught, as he laid his eyes on the damage that had befallen her body.  Her skin was scorched where the lightning had struck, a raw line of pink and black that seared down from her collarbone and disappeared beneath the folds of her tunic.

Her right hand was still curled faintly, twitching now and then with phantom sparks.

Sokka walked over with the supplies, taking deep breaths at the sight of his sister. “Okay,” He says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Let’s work with what we have,” 

He looks over at Aang, who has a vacant look in his eyes. Kneeling down to the boy, Sokka says, “You’re doing everything you can.”

Aang didn’t answer at first. His hands hovered over Katara’s chest, the healing water glowing faintly between his palms — but the glow was flickering, like a dying ember.

“I should’ve stopped it,” Aang whispered. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

“You can’t change what happened,” Sokka said, sharper now, though his voice stayed steady. “But you can change what happens next. And right now? She needs you.”

For a moment, Aang just stared at him. Then he looked back down at Katara — her pale skin, the angry burn tracing her body, the faint twitch in her fingers. His hands stopped shaking.

He swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said finally, his voice steadier. “First… we need to cool the burns.”

Sokka sighed in relief, “Good, how do we do that?”

“A slave would be best,” Aang said looking around the sorry pile of supplies. “Where is Toph?” He asks “Maybe she found something,” 

At that moment, Toph stumbled through the tent flap, her arms laden with whatever she’d been able to scavenge. “Found some water skins, a jar of something that smells like swamp, and a pile of blankets that aren’t completely disgusting.”

She dumped the load onto the ground and straightened, brushing dirt from her hands. “Couldn’t find a healer or anyone alive, but there’s a stash of herbs in one of the huts. No idea what they do, though.”

Aang was already pulling one of the skins toward him. He tore the cap off with his teeth and bent the water into a hovering sphere, cooling it with his breath before letting it seep gently over Katara’s shoulder and chest. Steam hissed softly against her skin.

Her breathing hitched, and her eyes fluttered open for just a second. 

“I’m here,” he said quickly, leaning closer. “Just hold on.”

Sokka set out the linens, tearing one into long strips. “We’ll keep cooling her down, then wrap it,” he said. His voice was all business, but his hands shook with every movement.

So they got to work. Aang wetted strips of linen from the skins, cooling the water with his breath until it was almost icy, while Sokka pressed them gently against Katara’s chest and arm. Each time the cloth touched her skin, she flinched — barely, but enough to make Aang wince. 

“Careful,” he murmured.

“I am careful,” Sokka muttered, dabbing the next strip along the burn. “We have to keep the heat from spreading deeper.”

“Not that cold,” Aang snapped, then taking a deep breath. “Too much and her system could go into shock”

Sokka froze at that, staring at Aang. “So what… what do we do?”

Aang took a breath, trying to remember what Katara had taught him. “The cloth shouldn’t be cold, just cool, and don’t press it, lay the strips on her body.”

Toph crouched beside them, shoving the jar of herbs toward Aang. “Maybe this stuff works? Smells like medicine — or swamp sludge, hard to tell.”

“We don’t know what it does,” Aang said

“We’ll I don’t know, I can’t read the label,” 

“Well, I can’t read the label,” Toph shot back, voice shaking despite her usual bite. “That's all I could find.”

The tent felt smaller with every second. The smell of damp cloth mixed with the sharp tang of burned flesh, and the wind outside rattled the canvas like a heartbeat out of sync.

They worked in silence after that, the only sounds the soft splash of water and Katara’s faint, uneven breaths.

By the time the burns were covered and the last of the linens wrapped around her shoulder and arm, the camp outside had grown darker. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the tent bathed in the dim orange glow of a single oil lamp.

“I think that's all we can do for now.” Sokka says, leaning back against a crate.  “Its getting dark now, we should probably settle down for the night,”

The burns were dressed, the water cooled, and for the first time since they’d landed, the tent went quiet.
Only Katara’s shallow breaths filled the space, slow but steady. Aang stayed beside her, keeping a fresh strip of linen damp while Sokka sorted through the supplies in silence.

Then, a low rumble broke the stillness.

Sokka froze. “…That wasn’t me.”

“That was definitely you,” Toph said flatly, leaning back against a crate. “And for the record, I’m starving too.” 

“That was definitely you,” Toph said flatly, leaning back against a crate. “And for the record, I’m starving too.”

Aang blinked. “I… I guess we haven’t eaten since—” His voice trailed off. He didn’t want to say since before the fight . He didn’t want to draw a line between that moment and this one.

Sokka straightened and brushed off his hands. “Right. Food. We have supplies. We can… cook something.”
He said it like a man preparing to face a vulture-wasp barehanded.

“Why do you sound nervous?” Toph asked, smirking.

“Because,” Sokka said, pulling out a sack of dried fish, “Katara’s not here to cook. And I may have slightly exaggerated my culinary skills in the past.”

“Shocker,” Toph muttered, and Sokka rolled his eyes. 

“Well, it can’t be that hard,” Aang said, “We just need something simple, Katara probably won't be able to eat much.” A silence fell over the group and for a second the crackle of the fire was the only sound.

“Okay, so something simple,” Sokka said, breaking the silence, “Like broth?”

“We’ll see, let's just see what we have.”

They pulled the supplies into a messy pile in the middle of the tent: a sack of dried fish, two handfuls of sea prunes, a small pouch of rice that had probably been here since the last moon, a handful of vegetables, and the “mystery jar” Toph had found earlier.

Sokka crouched beside the pile, rubbing his chin like a general assessing a hopeless battle.
“Okay… step one: fire.”

“That, I can do,” Aang said quickly. He slid a few pieces of driftwood into the small metal stove in the corner and sparked them to life with a puff of air. Warmth spread through the tent, though the shadows still clung to the corners.

Toph dropped a dented pot in front of him with a clang. “And here’s your battlefield.”

Sokka took it, muttering under his breath, and started filling it with water from one of the skins. “You soak the rice first, right? Or do you cook it and then soak it?”

Aang tilted his head. “Why would you soak it after you cook it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before and Katara’s not here to do it!” Sokka snapped, sloshing half the water onto the floor. His voice cracked at the last word and he slumped down next to the fire, willing himself to not cry. 

Toph walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, “You’re doing the best you can Sokka,” an unusual gentleness to her voice. “Just put the rice in the water and let it cook.” 

Sokka took a few calming breaths and with shaking hands, he stood up and poured the rice into the fire, “Ok done!Step two: mystery jar. What’s in it anyway?” , 

Aang peered at the jar, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know… herbs? Maybe something edible?”

Toph leaned closer. “Maybe not edible.” She tapped it lightly. “Smells like swamp, feels like swamp… probably swamp.”

Sokka froze mid-motion, holding the jar over the pot. “You’re saying we might poison ourselves?”

Aang tried to keep his voice calm. “Or we might… accidentally make it better. Remember that time Katara tried a… uh… ‘experimental’ seaweed soup?”

Sokka’s face twisted into a grimace at the memory. “Yeah. I still have nightmares about that one.”

“Ok, then,” Toph said, “Not using that. What else do we have?” 

Looking at the supplies scattered across the tent floor, Aang and Sokka exchanged a glance. The pile was modest but at least it was something. Toph’s “mystery jar” was quickly set aside, labeled officially as “probably not edible.”

“Alright,” Sokka said, rolling up his sleeves. “We’ve got fire, water, rice, and… these things,” he waved vaguely at the sea prunes. “How hard can it be?”

Aang knelt beside the pot, gently stirring the rice in the water, careful not to let it stick. “We can make broth using fish and vegetables.”

The water simmered, tiny bubbles breaking the surface, and the smell of rice slowly began to fill the tent. Sokka peered into the pot as if expecting it to leap out and attack him.

“Does this look… cooked?” he asked nervously, poking at the grains with a spoon.

Aang leaned over, sniffing cautiously. “I think so… it smells okay. Just don’t let it burn.”

Toph perched on a crate, arms crossed, watching the scene like a general inspecting a rookie battalion. “You two are ridiculous. Rice is rice. Just add water, wait, done. Sheesh.”

Sokka muttered something under his breath, but carefully started breaking the dried fish into smaller pieces, tossing them into the simmering water. A soft hiss followed, and the aroma shifted from plain rice to a faintly fishy soup.

Aang’s gaze drifted back towards the tent where Katara was. She was lying quietly, her breathing still uneven but more stable than before. A pang of sadness hit him—she had always been the strong one, the healer, the anchor for all of them. And now…

“Hey,” Sokka said, nudging him. “You’re spacing out. Want me to stir the fish for you too?” 

Aang blinked, “Yeah…yeah, thanks.”

The three of them worked in awkward unison. Eventually, dinner was ready, and Aang gently roused Katara. “Come on, do you think you can try eating?” 

Her face scrunches up, eyes still closed, as if even the thought of eating is repulsive. Aang hesitated, the wooden spoon hovering in his hand.

“It’s just broth,” he said, “Just try it, if you can’t we’ll stop. Promise.” 

Her lips didn’t move at first. Aang almost lowered the spoon, afraid of pushing her too soon. But then, with a sigh, she parted them just enough to let the liquid touch her tongue.

She swallowed once. Slowly.

“That’s it,” he murmured, almost like he was speaking to Appa after a rough landing. “Just a little.”

Sokka leaned in from the other side, watching every twitch of her face. “If she takes a few sips, that’s a good sign, right?”

“Yeah,” Aang said, though it came out softer than he meant. He dipped the spoon back into the pot and tried again.

The second sip went down easier. The third brought the tiniest flicker of a grimace. “Salty,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

Sokka gave a wet laugh that cracked halfway through. “Yeah, well, you can complain about my cooking later. Just keep getting better.”

After a few more spoonfuls, she turned her face away, and Aang didn’t press. He wiped the corner of her mouth with the edge of the blanket, then set the pot aside.

“Lets just hope she keeps it down,” Toph says. 

For a while, no one spoke. The only sounds were the bubbling of the pot still over the stove and the wind pressing against the canvas walls. They all sat closer than they needed to — maybe for the warmth, maybe just to feel that they weren’t alone.

Eventually they cleared away what was left of the meal in silence, their movements slow, as if the weight of the day had finally caught up to them. The stove’s embers glowed a faint orange, throwing wavering shadows along the tent walls. 

Sokka dragged a blanket from the pile toph had scrounged and spread it over Katara, tucking the edges around her, making sure to not agitate her burns. 

Toph slumped against a crate near the entrance. “I’ll take the first watch,” she muttered. “You two get some sleep.”

Aang hesitated. His knees ached from hours of crouching at Katara’s side, but his hands lingered on the damp cloth resting on her shoulder. “I’ll stay here a little longer,” he said softly.

Sokka didn’t argue. He just gave a short nod and lay down near the stove, one arm over his eyes, his breathing slow but never fully settling into sleep.

Aang lay down beside Katara, holding her good hand in his, focusing on her breathing. Every inhale felt like a fragile thread keeping her here, a reminder of how close they had come to losing her. He stayed like that for a while, just basking in her presence, listening to the soft rhythm of her breath and the vocational snap of the campfire outside. 

The outside world could be burning for all he cared, all that mattered was the faint rise and fall beneath his hand. 

The wind rattled the tent once more and Aang’s eyes drifted to the shadows, swaying along the canvas. The shapes were distorted and flickering, and for a moment he thought they looked like waves, endless, relentless, and beautiful.

He squeezed Katara’s hand, “Just keep holding on,” he whispered, not knowing if she could even hear, “I’m never letting you go. I love you Katara.”

For a moment everything fell quiet, then, her fingers twitched, gripping Aang’s hand tighter, and he closed his eyes, letting a small ember of hope settle in his chest. Aang adjusted the blanket over Katara one last time, tucking it beneath her chin, before resting his head beside her hand. He didn’t mean to sleep — just to listen to her breathing, to keep count, to make sure it never stopped.

And slowly, in the deep orange glow of the dying embers, with the storm-muted sea beyond the shore, the three of them drifted into the uneasy stillness of the night.

Morning would come — as it always did — whether they were ready or not.

And when it did, they’d still be here… together.

For now, that was enough.