O_O Wat iz zees? I actually completed something within a week?! *You may now die of shock*
Even more O_O. Angst again? Yeesh! (To my credit the weather described in this one-shot is exactly what it's like at my place right now...)

Inspired by: Avatar
Also: The weather
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar. The weatherman owns the weather (supposedly)

You Would Have Liked Her

Aang always knew that Katara's mood was affected by the weather—it was just her way. Sunny and bright: she was playful. Way too hot: she was irritable. Snowing: she was content. Thunderstorm: she was either mischievous or just wanted a hot drink.

However, today's weather was a miserable, long, drawn-out downpour over the Southern Earth Kingdom. And there was nothing more unpleasant than waiting it out in two small, cramped tents with absolutely nothing to do. The airbender wasn't exactly sure what this would do to her mood. Yet throughout the day, the sixteen-year-old waterbender remained quiet. Except for asking for more food (nothing much else to do) and the occasional grumbles about when the rain was going to let up already, Katara hadn't uttered a word to him.

This unnerved Aang completely, setting him on the edge. Constantly he found himself wondering what she could possibly be thinking about. He knew she was thinking about something—he could tell when she glanced at him, her blue eyes slightly glazed, as if her mind were somewhere else today—he just didn't know what she was actually thinking. His tent was directly opposite of hers, and both huddled closely to the trees. The rain didn't leave him much to do except wonder about her today.

Finally, Katara stepped out of her tent and, bending a temporary umbrella from the rain, announced that she was going to go check on Appa.

Aang poked his head out of his tent flap and nodded, albeit confusedly. Since when had Katara taken interest in Appa's well-being while it was raining? Still, he watched her walk away to where Appa was.

He waited three whole minutes before getting up to visit Appa as well, overwhelmed with curiosity and confusion.

The airbender walked over to the earth-tent Aang made for Appa. It wasn't brilliant, but Katara had point-blank refused to fly on a wet, smelly bison. Frankly, Aang couldn't agree more: Appa needed a tent. So they made do.

Entering the makeshift tent, Aang found Katara idly brushing Appa's fur coat. She seemed distracted, and finally Aang asked her:

"Is something wrong, Katara?"

The waterbender neither nodded nor shook her head, but instead continued to brush Appa, her hand stroking the same spot over and over. Picking up another brush, Aang figured that he might as well make himself useful, and began to brush Appa's fur as well, standing next to her. They stood together for a few minutes in silence, simply listening to the rain fall steadily outside. Then Katara spoke softly, almost in a whisper:

"You would've liked her."

Aang barely heard her speak. He looked over at her. "What?"

"You would've liked her..." she repeated, still stroking the bison's fur with a brush.

"Who?" Aang asked as politely and unassumingly as he could. It took Katara a few more seconds before she finally answered.

"My mother."

So that's what this was all about. Aang really didn't want to see her cry, so he kept quiet. Until he had a thought:

"What about her?" Aang asked. Katara turned to face him questioningly, and he clarified: "What about your mother...um...would I have, you know, liked?" He asked tentatively. Katara turned back to brushing Appa still working on the same spot. Believing that he wasn't going to get an answer out of her, Aang resumed brushing Appa's coat as well.

It was several minutes before Katara spoke again.

"Oh, I don't know..." She sighed, and it took Aang a few seconds to realize what she was talking about. "Most everybody liked her. I suppose she was just that kind of person."

Aang nodded slowly, soaking in the information before quietly asking her, "What was she like?"

A very small smile crept over Katara's face, and her blue eyes shimmered. She was recalling every detail that she remembered. "She was very...homey. She didn't do anything insane. She was graceful, and the best cook around. I bet even you would've liked her stewed sea prunes."

Aang doubted this very much, but he nodded and smiled, urging her to continue.

"She was smart...I remember she loved teasing Dad...She had such a kind, soft face, and she would put her hair up in a different style almost every day. Nothing too fancy—she wasn't very fancy at all, I suppose—but it was simple, sensible, and elegant enough.

"She sounds a lot like you." Aang put in. Katara whipped her face around, staring at him for a second before giving him a watery smile.

"That's what Dad says..." She raised the back of her hand to wipe at her right eye. "And Gran-Gran..." She rubbed her left eye. "Even Sokka..." She added, letting out a small laugh as she shook her head. She turned back to grooming Appa. "But I don't think so..." She added softly.

"Why not?" Aang prompted.

"I don't know, she was so, well...perfect." Katara said. "She never did anything crazy, or rash, or well, stupid." Aang frowned in puzzlement, until she added: "I suppose that's why she went for Dad." This comment caused Aang to laugh out loud. Katara chuckled softly.

A few seconds passed, before Aang heard her utter: "I don't think I could ever be just like her."

Aang paused in silence, before commenting, "That's good, isn't it?"

This caused Katara to stare at him, eyes wide and almost daring him to say more. He did.

"I mean..." He stuttered, "If you were exactly like her, then well, you wouldn't be you..." He spoke hastily. Katara paused, then turned back to her work. Aang looked over at her again. She merely continued to brush the bison's coat. He was terribly confused, and decided that the small talk had to end.

"Katara," Aang spoke gently, taking her right arm that had the brush and holding it still. "What's this all about?" He felt her arm stiffen underneath his grip.

"I was eight years old when she was murdered, Aang. I'm sixteen now. I've lived half of my life without her..." She paused, and Aang could almost feel the cold energy seeping out of her body. "I'm just trying to figure out why my Mother—who never did anything rash or stupid—would do something like that for me." She was shaking now, her teeth gritted as she tried to hold back tears. "Why on earth would my mom, who always had her head on straight, not cry out for help or run away? How could she be so calm, when she was about to—"

"She was being brave—" Aang interjected, but Katar cut him off.

"Brave, yes, and rash and reckless and....and stupid!" Aang stopped, stunned. She wasn't holding back now, tears streaming down her face. "Why?! She didn't have to! Why did she want to protect me, when she could've saved herself just as easily!"

"Because she loved you, and you're worth it!" Aang told her, pulling her into an embrace She sobbed freely into his shoulder as they collapsed back into Appa's side. Numbly, Aang stroked her hair, trying to calm her down. He whispered softly into her ear: "You're worth it, Katara. You're worth it. I don't know what I would do if you hadn't survived; I might not be here. You're worth it..." He told her over and over again.

Eventually her sobs softened to sniffles, and her ragged, uneven breathing slowed. Looking down at her face, red cheeks and puffy eyes, Aang realized that she had actually cried herself to sleep. Placing his fingertips on her forehead, he found she had a slight fever. Lifting her up and settling her down into the warmth and protection of Appa's fur coat, Aang went to go fetch a cloth, dampened by bending rainwater, and placed it on her forehead. Finally, he tucked her in with some blankets before laying down beside her and eventually drifting off.

***

"Aang?"

The airbender awoke to the sound of his name.

"'M right here, Katara." Aang said. It was dark—nighttime now, with the moon and the stars their only source of light—and he looked at her soft outline.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

He smiled. "There's no need to be sorry."

"She was always perfect..." Aang heard Katara mumble. "I want her to be perfect. I don't want my memory of her to change at all..." Aang took her hand, which she held on to tightly. A few more moments of silence, and Aang noticed that the rain seemed to have finally stopped.

"Katara?"

"Mmhmm?"

A whisper: "She still sounds a lot like you. And I think that if she's anything as wonderful as you are, I would've liked her too."

Aang didn't see her, but he could practically feel her smile.

Like it? Hate it? Please comment!

Katara had angst with her dad. Why not her mom? At the end though, it does (or at least, I hope it does) establish that Katara views her Mother's memory as just the way she wants it to be: perfect in her eyes. She just needed to let it out.

Okay, yeah, I know, I'm supposed to be working on that AU, right? It's in a bit of a writer's block (already!) So this popped out. I really wish it hadn't been angsty, to be honest. I do like fluff. Next one-shot'll be chock-full of it, I promise. ;p