Chapter Text
Zuko is watching.
He's perched inside a hidden alcove, high enough to witness without being noticed, close enough to jump in if the need arises. It's the perfect spot, really, which is precisely why he told Katara to confront Aang in this particular courtyard.
Zuko means to keep a close eye on his pupil, see how he reacts to sudden attacks, which katas he avoids, and which ones he relies on too much. Then, once the spar is over, he'll come down, point out Aang's mistakes, and drill him until he doesn't make them anymore.
But for that to happen, the fight needs to begin.
Where is she?
Aang's been hunched over for a while now, scratching the floor with a stick. Drawing—is that a heart?—is not conducive to improvement. Zuko should know. Father burned a depressing amount of his sketches over the years.
Focus.
Zuko perks up when Katara marches down the courtyard. She looks determined, and there's a sort of...mischief, perhaps, dwelling in the bounce of her steps. He raises an eyebrow. Katara hadn't seemed too on board with his idea, but now it's almost like she's excited to throw icicles at Aang without so much as a warning.
Oh well. Katara can be as crazy as she wants if it pushes Aang to firebend in battle. Zuko won't complain.
Aang jumps up when he notices Katara. Her hands rest innocently behind her body as she talks to him, but it's obvious from this point of view that she's opening her waterskin. Zuko smirks.
This girl, really.
Zuko can barely hear them from up here, but a few words manage to reach him. Katara says she wants to tell Aang something, to which he reacts with a weird amount of enthusiasm. Katara’s subsequent Think fast! makes Zuko snicker. Aang's bafflement at being soaked is too precious.
“That's it? That's what you had to say to me? I thought maybe you finally wanted to talk about…”
For some reason, the way Aang whined 'finally' rubs Zuko the wrong way. Katara's laughing, though, so he grabs the thought and locks it away for later inspection.
“Enough moping around, you sound like Zuko!” Hey! I resent that. “Time to practice your firebending.”
Aang blanks out for a second. Or two. Either way, Katara takes the opening to attack and—sweet mother of Agni—absolutely wipes the floor with the poor kid.
She's glorious as she bends, all raw power and deadly grace. Zuko tries not to get distracted, so he focuses on Aang's unending deflection. He frowns. This is the reason he asked Katara to attack Aang; he knew the Avatar would go easy on her. If she manages to push Aang to the edge and make him firebend against the opponent he wishes to fight the least... It'll be a breakthrough, which is precisely what Aang needs if he wants to become a proficient firebender.
Judging by the way Aang isolates himself inside a rock formation—just like he did back in Ba Sing Se—reaching that breakthrough's going to be harder than he thought.
Zuko curses under his breath. What's that kid doing?
“Nice defensive earthbending move... But you're supposed to be practicing your firebending!”
See? She gets it.
Aang replies something, but his voice comes muted from inside the rock. Zuko inches closer as frustration slowly takes over Katara. It's understandable, he thinks. This isn't the time to play Hide-Aang-Seek.
“Aang, you have to be ready to fight the Fire Lord. This is no time for games or playing Hide-Aang-Seek.”
Zuko blinks.
Huh.
He's distracted from his little what-the-fuck moment by Katara's sudden change in body language. She steps back from the small fortress, hugs her elbows, and looks away... Then the anxiety turns to rage, as though she's angry at herself for feeling guilty about something that's not her fault. Zuko's familiar with the sentiment; he's seen it in the mirror more times than he'd bother to count.
Katara sends a dozen icicles into the rock formation in hopes of drawing Aang out of it. Her frustrated yell makes Zuko shudder.
“Come on already, Aang! Show me some fire!”
Aang's reply is wrathful enough to break through the earth.
“Fine! You want fire? I'll show you fire!”
Zuko throws himself out of the alcove. He rolls on the floor and thinks he might've broken an arm, but it doesn't matter because Katara's turning away in an attempt to protect herself. The rock sizzles and melts with an infernal heat, and he runs runs runs but isn't fast enough, he's not fast enough—
The world burns.
It hurts.
Flesh, stench, muscle, tear, a little bit of bone—it hurts, hurtshurtshurts like nothing ever has before, hurts like her mother's corpse drenching their home in the scent of charred skin, hurts like her hands by a riverside that one time her best friend...her...
What am I doing?
She doesn't know what happened. Doesn't seem to know anything but hurt anymore. And it's alright, she can take a little pain, but the fact that she can't remember is enough to clench her throat and keep her from yelling at him to come back and finish the figh—
Oh. I remember.
They're at the Western Air Temple. Have been for weeks. Or a few months. Or decades. She doesn't know.
She'd attacked Aang, playful yet serious, trying to goad him into going on the offensive instead of dodging eternally. She recalls talking about it with Zuko a few days ago. He's of the opinion that Aang relies too much on deflection.
Fire is life, he said, and life is never stagnant. It happens whether you want it or not, but it's meaningless if you don't have the will to live.
She told him that didn't make any sense. He rolled his eyes, cursed his uncle, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Look, Aang has the potential to become a great firebender, but lacks the drive necessary to improve. He can master all the katas he wants, but there's no way in Agni's name he'll defeat my father without the willpower to use fire in a friendly spar.
And she understood. Unlike airbending, firebending is a primarily offensive art. Aang won't become a fully realized Avatar unless he trusts his instincts and uses it to attack. It makes sense. It's worrying, too, because Aang always relies on deflecting his enemies' blows. Not even Toph's lessons could take away his instinctive reaction to dodge.
So, she asked, how can we help him?
Zuko's idea had sounded insane at first. A specific brand of—holy tui and la that hurts—Fire Nation Royal Insanity that made her raise an eyebrow and give her best unimpressed look. He defended his plan, explaining that it was something his masters had done all the time to make him more aggressive, more assertive, less of a cowardly, tender-mannered failure—he didn't mean Aang's a failure! That wasn't the point!
Then what's the point?
Aang's first instinct in a fight is to evade, but everyone has a breaking point. If he's suddenly attacked by the teacher he trusts the most and pushed into using firebending to drive you back... It could weaken his mental barriers against offensive bending. Maybe even break them.
Which...makes a lot of sense. It's her duty to look after Aang—hurtshurtshurts please not anymore I can't—and this seemed like the best way to help him improve. Toph's right: sometimes a gentle nudge doesn't work as well as a violent push. And, well, she was curious, too. Would fighting Aang be as exciting as her sparring sessions with Zuko? Improbable, but an interesting notion all the same.
She doesn't think anything could enthrall her quite as much as facing Zuko in the Temple courtyard late at night. Pulse racing. Blood humming. Smirk widening. The push of a fire wave and the pull of a water whip. And the aftermath, lying on the warm, soaked ground to stargaze and breathe in silence. Synchronized.
Their sessions are the best consequence of forming a truce with Zuko. To think she wouldn't know such completion if she hadn't taken a moment to study his room that first night...
Zuko had shown up at the Temple that morning. And the morning before. And the morning before that. He apologized and offered his services and declared over and over again—nonono come back don't you dare run away from this please—that he didn't want forgiveness because he had no right to demand it. He only wished to do what was right without hurting anyone else. Without betraying anyone else.
(He was talking about his uncle, she knew that. But still...)
It scratched a little itch, hearing him say that with such conviction. Then the itch tripled in size, grew restless and hungry enough to swallow her whole. She allowed it and slithered after him the night he was accepted into their group.
She waited until Zuko was distracted to slide into his room and lean on the doorframe, teetering on the edge between fury and devastation. He didn't notice.
(Later, he confessed that he'd heard her stalking down the hallway. You're terrible at stealth, but that's okay. We can work on it.)
She took a moment to watch him. Guard down. A portrait of his uncle in hand. Dual blades she'd never seen him use before resting innocently on the bedroll. Warm light casting his hair, his profile, his shoulders in sharp contrast. The table he rested his weight against, and on that table, she saw…
That's something we have in common.
Zuko hadn't been anywhere near her room. There's no way he had seen the reminder she'd stolen from the Catacombs in a moment of unguarded insanity. She'd only ever taken it out of hiding whenever she could find some privacy. Nobody knew about it. Nobody could know about it.
But now Zuko did, and—it wasn't right.
The shape wasn't right.
The crystal that rested on Zuko's table had the exact same color as hers, a vibrant emerald green that reflected sunlight and moonlight just the same. It had the same sharpened edges, as though it had once been part of a larger stalagmite that had been shattered to pieces. It elicited the same memories.
But the shape was all wrong. Zuko's crystal was bigger than hers, crude and jagged and violent. Her little souvenir wasn't much larger than the stone on her mother's necklace—not that smell why does it hurt so much mom stop screaming please don't—and didn't hold much more weight. Zuko's resembled the dagger tucked in his sash. The comparison made her uneasy. She tried to tell him.
What is that?
No...no, that wasn't the right question. She knew what that crystal was, knew where it was from—she just needed to know what it meant.
Katara? Why are you—
That...that thing, on your table. What is it?
Zuko didn't need to look. Even then, he always seemed to know what she truly meant.
He said nothing for a long time, so she didn't either. They just stared at each other, lips pursed and breathing harsh for no apparent reason. She was wild and confused and scratched open. He looked like a beggar. The silence became too much so she broke it, hoping to break him.
Why?
Nothing.
Why would you—if you think for one second that this will trick me into—
I found it after the battle. It had gotten stuck in the coat I'd been wearing when Uncle... Azula told me to burn the clothes and toss the crystal away, so I said I would. I...I think that's the first time she's believed one of my lies.
She hadn't known what to say to that. (I don't know anything anymore.)
When we returned to the Palace, I hid it in my room. I don't know why, it just... It was a reminder of everything that went wrong because of me, and I don't—
No. No, no, no, stop! You don't have the right to pretend—
I'm not pretending, Katara. I'm not. Ba Sing Se was one of the worst days of my life. If I could take it all back—do you think I wouldn't? I fucked up! I took everything good and genuine I'd been given and turned it to ash.
Oh, but isn't that what you wanted? Congratulations, Prince Zuko! I'm sure all the servants and nobles adored your performance.
Is this a joke to you?
A joke? A joke would be a traitor whining about his hurt feelings when his uncle and the girl—the people who trusted in him lost everything because he fucked up.
(—he said he'd never firebend so he wouldn't burn me again but he lied he liedliedlied—)
Katara...
No! Don't you dare touch me! You lost that right when you betrayed me.
Betray? Katara, I never promised you anything.
Didn't you?! What was that about being free to determine your own destiny? About having changed? About what we had in common? Did that mean nothing to you? Was it all a lie?!
I'm trying to make things right! Can't you see, Katara? I'm here because I fucking hate myself for what happened, and I'd rather die a hundred times than cause you—any of you—the same pain again. But don't you dare call me a liar. What happened under Ba Sing Se—what we shared in those catacombs—it meant the damn world to me.
If it did you wouldn't have—
If it didn't I wouldn't be here, doing my damnest not to drop to my fucking knees and beg for your forgiveness.
Why don't you? Is Your Highness too high in the food chain to bow before a dirty peasant?
I'm not bowing because I don't deserve to be forgiven. Because you don't deserve to feel any pressure to forgive me.
Bold of you to assume I'd ever consider it!
A hollow chuckle. I don't even know why I bother.
So that's it? You'll just give up?
(—why did he leave can't he see he burned me and now it hurts it hurts so bad—)
I'm not...that's… Agni, Katara, don't you understand?
Oh, I understand perfectly.
No, you don't. If you understood, then you wouldn't be tormenting me about breaking whatever promise you think I made, because you did it first.
What in La's name are you talking about?!
You know what I'm talking about.
I don't! What promise is that? I never...
Oh. Oh, this is too precious. You blasted hypocrite!
Zuko! What are you talking about?!
...you really don't remember?
(“That's it, Katara? I thought you wanted to talk about what happened before the invasion.”)
I already told you I...! Wait, why are you—stand up and look me in the eye! What do you mean?
...I just... Agni, I can't believe you'd forget...
Zuko!
A sardonic little laugh.
You tore me up more than you know, Katara.
Breath caught in her throat. Zuko refused to meet her eyes as he spoke in a tired drawl.
I tossed away what little honor and righteousness I had in Ba Sing Se. All those lessons Uncle spent years trying to teach me had begun sinking in, and...and I turned my back on them. On him. I betrayed the only living family member who ever truly loved me.
What does that have to do with me?
That's just it, though. I betrayed Uncle, but you've been going on and on about how I betrayed you, too... And you're right, in a way. You placed your trust in an enemy and offered me something precious without asking for anything in return... Except for my loyalty.
That's not…
(“Aang, this isn't about us! You're supposed to be preparing to fight the Fire Lord!”)
Isn't it? Weren't you hoping I'd turn against my family and nation out of gratitude? Didn't you think that if you made me feel like I was important, I'd refuse my only chance to go home to run away with you?
Zuko...you can't possibly believe...
What am I supposed to think, then?! That you suddenly forgave the man who hunted you across the world? That you'd heal my scar for no fucking reason other than empathy? That for a delirious moment you cared about me?!
Yes! That's exactly what you should've thought, because it was the truth! Do you really believe I'm so...so heartless? That everything was a scheme to—
Yes!
Why?!
Because the alternative meant that I wasn't enough for you to stay!
A hitch in breathing. Silence.
...what?
You promised, Katara. You took out that stupid spirit water and said you'd been saving it for something important and then offered to heal me, and I thought...it made me... For a second, you made me feel like I was that something important. And I'd never... But then the Avatar showed up, you jumped into his arms, turned your back on me, and fucking left without a second glance.
Zuko...
And I just...it was like a big joke, you know? Because every single time something good happens to me, my blasted karma or unlucky spirits or whatever take it away. Every fucking time I dare hope for something, it turns to ash.
Zuko, shut up. That time in the Catacombs—
I'd just begun to make peace with the idea that a simple life with Uncle in Ba Sing Se wouldn't be so bad. And then Azula fucking ruined everything, and you offered the one thing I've ever begged for, only to leave me like... So I thought, 'This just proves I'm not meant to be happy. Well, if that's the case, then the whole Agni-damned world can burn down with me'. And we all know how that—
I DID!
What?
I did look back! In the Catacombs, before Aang dragged me away—I looked back for you, Zuko. I wanted to reassure you that I hadn't forgotten and I trusted you'd do the right thing. But you...you were looking away.
I... Agni, that's not…
When you showed up, I knew you'd choose my side. But...but you didn't, and—it wasn't the first time I'd trusted in someone and got stabbed in the back. Still, I hoped you'd be different. I needed reassurance that trust freely given can be returned. I needed to be right because if...if I wasn't—if the good I saw in people wasn't really there at all—then what's the point?
Katara...
I was being genuine, Zuko. I honestly thought you had changed, but it was all…it must have been a lie.
(“Katara, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—”)
(“DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER, AANG!”)
What? Katara, I've never lied to you.
Bewildered sincerity. And it was impossible to deny, wasn't it? Even as enemies, he'd never been able to deceive her.
Never even tried.
I...I know. I know. But if you didn't say those things to trick me, then...why wasn't I enough for you to follow?
You were. You always will be.
Silence.
So will you.
No. No, I've always been a failure.
Zuko, you are enough; you've always been enough to the people who care to see you.
Katara, you don't have to...
No, no, no—you listen to me. I'm still mad at you. I'm fucking furious at what you did, and I don't think I'll be able to forgive you—
I understand.
—yet. But I will be, someday.
Katara...?
Listen, we both fucked up in Ba Sing Se. If it wasn't for me, you would've never...
No! Don't you ever blame yourself for my mistakes. I'm the one who chose wrongly in the Catacombs. I'm the one who made it possible for this world's only hope to die. I'm the one who hurt you, Katara, and I deserve whatever punishment comes my—
Were you always this melodramatic?
Katara, I'm serious!
So am I. Zuko, I came here to threaten you with certain death if you so much as looked at Aang the wrong way. And, believe me, I was more than ready to make that threat become reality.
(—don't leave me alone I don't know what to do please drive him away I don't want him to see me like this please Zuko—)
But now I...I'm calling a truce.
A...truce?
A cease-fire. An armistice. A reprieve. Whatever you want to call it. You don't sulk us into submission, and I don't murder you in your sleep. It's a win-win.
...why do I feel like I'm getting much more out of this deal than you?
Because you're not an idiot, though some of your actions in the past might suggest otherwise.
Hey! That's...absolutely fair, go on.
Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I'll benefit too. The temple gets awfully chilly at night, lighting up the cooking fires is torture, and I haven't had a sparring partner who doesn't enjoy splashing me in mud since...well, never. So. Here we are.
You...you're serious about this.
(“I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you again. Please hold on, Katara, come on…”)
Look, Zuko...I've been hurting over what happened for too long. I spent my days fantasizing about tearing you into pieces when we met in battle, and my nights sobbing, wondering how it all went wrong. I'm tired, and watching you mope around doesn't strike my fancy right now.
It doesn't?
Oh, hush. I just... I want you to prove I was right to trust you all those months ago in Ba Sing Se, and you can't exactly do that if you're bowing at my feet all the time, can you?
No, I can't. But...but why?
...you see that crystal?
Yeah.
I kept one, too.
(“No, no, no, don't fall asleep! We're almost by the fountain, so you can heal yourse... Katara...? Katara!”)
So, uh... Truce?
His smile.
Truce.
And that had been that. They still goad and annoy each other often, but it carries no real heat. The playful banter helps them remember where the line is drawn. None of their words are meant to cut—“You want fire? I'll show you fire!”—and no cut can't be patched over—it hurts!
There's trust, fragile and shy and powerful. The only reason she's not…
Not…
Katara breathes in and opens her eyes.
Her lungs feel too small and brittle to hold the air in. The stench of burnt flesh chokes her until she's left coughing and inhaling and trying to remember how to breathe.
“Shh, it's okay, you're okay. Take a deep breath—follow my lead—and hold it in. That's it. In through your nose...ichi, ni, san...and out of your mouth. Steady. You're doing good, just keep breathing…”
Zuko's voice leads her out of the panic. Katara imitates the way he breathes above her, deep and slow and careful, and allows it to calm her down. Once she can inhale without feeling like her chest is too small for her lungs, she swallows and focuses on the world around her.
They're in one of the temple courtyards, a different one this time. The place where she confronted Aang doesn't have a fountain, but now she's lying down in clear water, wondering how she got there. A tender current swirls around her body, dressing her burns in coolness and the promise of healing. She's floating, held up by Zuko's warmth under and around and over her body.
One of his hands keeps her head afloat while the other supports the small of her back. Zuko's kneeling next to her, too tall to stand in the shallow fountain. His body curls over hers protectively. If another rain of molten rock is hurled at her, it'll hit him first. Katara doesn't know if he's doing this on purpose. She's afraid to ask.
His arms are trembling. His jaw is set. Maybe he's uncomfortable, she thinks. Doesn't it hurt? He's strong, but carrying her all the way here and holding her up for La knows how long...it must be straining. It occurs to her that it would be more comfortable for him to hold her shoulders, but the ache is a sharp reminder that she's still hurt, so deeply hurt, and he's trying not to make it worse.
“Katara, listen to me. You need to heal yourself.”
Katara blinks up at him, hazy and dim and a little lost. Zuko whines in despair. She's never heard him make that sound before. She doesn't like it.
“Please, Katara—please heal yourself. I don't...I can't do it for you, so please…”
Seeing him beg is world-shattering. It grabs her heart in a cold grip and squeezes a little, so she tries to heal, not to ease the pain or avoid a scar, but for him.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders if the fire also burned her sanity away.
“Yes! That's it, come on. Heal…”
The water is pliant around her. It molds and reaches and begins to lighten until the world turns blue. Zuko's relief is so overwhelming that it makes her push forward, reach deeper into the wounds, seek furiously to mend and fix and—
She screams.
It's burning again it hurts so much I thought the pain was over why is it back please please please stop hurting I can't move I can't think I can't—
“Katara?! Katara, what's—no, no, no—FUCK—should've realized… Katara, listen to me. The fire burned—killed your nerves, it’s why you couldn't feel anything. You fixed them, so now you're in pain. Listen, Katara, please—I know it hurts, but you still need to heal yourself, okay? Otherwise, it'll scar and...just heal yourself.”
She tries. She tries and tries and tries but the pain is too much and her skin feels like it's melting and the water is so cold and it hurts.
Zuko keeps talking. Frantic words that fade to the background as she loses the battle with herself.
He shakes her. She goes limp.
He yells. She closes her eyes.
He coats her in water. She draws closer to his warmth.
Months ago, she would've done anything to escape him. But destiny is a funny thing, and life is ruthless with its lessons. Katara doesn't want to see Aang right now. Maybe not in a while. Somehow, she's sure that Zuko drove him away before he could see what he'd done to her. Aang's still innocent, if only in his heart and mind. She can protect that innocence. She will, even if she needs to hide her scars from the world to do so.
Zuko calls her name again. Katara smiles.
She wants to tell him he doesn't need to worry—she'll never hide her scars from him. The very idea is ridiculous. He's always let her see all of him. Why wouldn't she return the favor? Zuko will understand. He'll help her keep this wound from Aang because he knows that the Avatar can't afford to drown in guilt and run away when they're so close to ending the war.
Zuko is smart. Zuko is protective, in his own endearingly weird way. Zuko knows the pain of a burn. He'll help her heal. She knows this as surely as she knows her own name.
Katara stops fighting the exhaustion. There's no point in hurting herself in an attempt to heal.
She's already safe.