Rating: K+
Word Count: 951
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Avatar: the Last airbender]
After an injury, the first night is always the most dangerous. Everything seems calm and silent during the night, and even the healer is often less observant. And even if the patient seems alright, the body can still shut itself down. The hearts stops, the breathing ceases. Death comes unannounced and fast.
Katara didn't study healing under Yugoda for very long, but this particular lesson etched deep into her mind.
The first night is always the most dangerous.
That's why she refuses to leave Zuko alone after his Agni Kai with Azula. Even if he is fast asleep, his breathing even, his face free of pain and the servants – the ones who were brave enough to come back to the palace – are insistent on opening a guest room for her, running a bath, bring food and clean clothes – she dismisses all of them.
She won't leave his side until dawn breaks, not even for a minute.
After the duel they went straight to his old room, Zuko limping, barely standing on his own; the bedroom's grandeur startled Katara. The high ceiling, the delicately craved wood, the soft silks… she had never seen anything like this before. The air was little stuffy, though, so she opened all the great windows to let the fresh air in, but even though his room faces the gardens, she could still smell the smoke, the reminder of the fight.
He was out within minutes, his fatigue finally catching up to him. He didn't even have enough energy to take off his boots and crawl under the covers. It was Katara who pulled the shoes off his feet and draw the silk blanket up to his navel, climbing into bed next to him.
His bed is huge; it would be comfortable for not only two, but maybe for three people as well. But for only one person? It must have felt lonely to sleep here alone, she muses.
She scoots as close to him as she dares, careful not to disturb his sleep. He seems so calm, so much more in peace than when he is awake. Almost like a child. Katara is exhausted as well, but she doesn't even dare to close her eyes, not even for a minute. What if…?
She stifles a yawn. No, she has to stay awake.
Zuko stirs in his sleep, wincing a little, signs of pain appearing on his face. Panic rises in Katara's chest.
She has had a bowl of clear water placed on the nightstand by the servants, just as a precaution, should something during the night happen. She reaches for it now, calling it, coating her hands with it. Her element's familiar touch soothes her soul.
She places her hands on his chest, willing it to seep under his skin, under the scabbed surface of his new scar, not really healing, only searching, making sure that he's alright. Somehow he still relaxes under her touch, the pain leaving his face.
She can't bear it anymore.
"You scared me half to death today, you know that, right?" Katara says in a hushed tone, not waiting for an answer, only wanting to get her fear and shock leave her. "Don't even do that to me again, do you understand? I know that you it's an honorable thing to do, but believe it or not, we need you alive." A single tear leaks from her eye. "I need you alive."
Searching deep, she finds a small tear on his heart she didn't notice before. She wills the water curl around it, mending the muscle, keeping the blood from leaving his heart.
"I have no idea what would've I done if you died on me today," she continues. "It's crazy, I know, but I just can't see myself without you now." The water finishes its job, the tear is mended, just as a sob escapes her throat. "I can't lose you, Zuko, I just simply can't."
She tosses the water aside, back into the bowl, then she turns back to Zuko, placing her hand back on his chest, just above his wound. His heart under her hand keeps a strong, even, healthy rhythm.
"Let's make a deal, okay? You pull through this and get better. Take the throne and bring peace to the world. And for it, I'll stay with you. Forever. If you want me to. Is that okay?"
Now she wishes he would wake. Now she wishes he would open his eyes and smile and answer her and tell her that he doesn't want her to leave, not now, not ever. She wants him to kiss her, to hold.
It's crazy, but she wants that.
But he stubbornly remains asleep. Deep inside Katara thinks it's maybe for the better. But there is one more thing she has to say, one more thing she has to get out of her system before the moment is over, before the dawn breaks. Before she gets too afraid to say it out loud.
"I love you, Zuko. I love you so much."
Zuko wakes next morning when the sun is already high on the sky. He is terribly sore, his abdomen aches, but he is well rested. For a minute or two he is to groggy to know where he is, but the first thing his sleep-clouded mind registers is a sleeping girl lying next to him, her hand placed on his chest, her head so close to his that her hair is tickling his nose.
It's not at all an unpleasant sight to wake up to.
…But it makes him wonder – did his strange, but so wonderful dream, the dream with the silently weeping waterbender claiming to love him, really happen?