Prompt: Family

This will have no real plot sequence so it will be updated rather sporadically. It's also kind of a gathering place for all my katara week 2014 stuff as well.

It was cold and dark- the two components of the night that inspired fear and discomfort. Wind whipped over the saddle in sharp sheets. It came without warning, tearing stands of hair out of her braid to tangle in her mouth and lash across her stinging cheeks. Her eyes watered and she kept reaching up to scrub the moisture away, becoming rougher and rougher as frustration built.

She couldn't make out the streak of land below when she leaned over the saddle. She couldn't make out the outline of her hand when she held it in front of her face. It was as though they were a single entity in a strange plane of nothing, flying nowhere in an all encompassing darkness that they kept hoping would break.

Katara had a lot of faith- but just not tonight.

With darkness around her there was nothing to distract from the steady flicker of memories behind her eyelids. Lucid blue against powdered snow that crumpled under her boots- crunch crunch crunch-and the kind of cold that heavy pelts and heavy hands on her shoulders dispelled. Harsh pale faces with shocks of hair like soot and thin lips the color of sliced open fish. Strange voices echoing in the thin air of the village- these voices were meant for humidity to muffle and soften the biting snap of consonants against teeth but they were here and Katara knew with every fiber of her being and every drop of marrow in her bones they did not belong.

She took in a shuddering gasp at a break in the wave and forced her eyes open to stare at the nothing in front of her face. The moisture at the edges of her eyes became more and more tangible and thick till it wasn't just irritation there. It was pain and frustration and sorrow and above all loss. An acute sense of emptiness in a place she had shrouded within herself for so long that it throbbed with triumph at her return.

A heavy drop was about to tumble down- she could feel the water there, ready to obey her fingertips but tears were the most uncontrollable liquid of all- when something cold and small clasped around her wrist.

She started and looked down and for the first time that night, she could see something. Small pale fingers and choppy nails closed over an invisible wrist and a small voice whispered into the air, "Katara, I'm scared."

Katara froze for a moment before she reached out, wrapping fingers in hair and pulling a head against her side. She slid an arm around small but sturdy shoulders and whispered back, "It's ok, Toph. You're safe."

And then suddenly another sensation, so familiar that she wanted to sob with nostalgia and thankfulness brushed over her other arm. It was the warm fabric of Sokka's glove and it pressed tentatively against her with a mix of embarrassment and denied loneliness.

"Katara, I miss…"

He couldn't finish whatever he had started to say because there was just too much to say. There were too many things he missed, too many things he wanted to put into words so he just settled next to her and laid his heavy head on her shoulder.

"I know, Sokka. Me too," she murmured back leaning her head against his.

They stayed like that for a few moments until the near soundless pads of footsteps over the saddle stopped in front of the little group. They could hear the whip and flutter of loose clothing and the words he was trying to think of so Katara said, "It's alright, Aang."

He settled down in between Katara and Toph, knowing that it wasn't alright. He wasn't alright, they weren't alright, the world wasn't alright. But here it was warm and soft with steady breathing and he could close his eyes and pretend.

Katara gently rubbed Toph's back and listened to the rumble of Sokka's and whisper of Aang's breath. It was cold and the wind was still sheeting. It was dark and her skin was still invisible. But she was here. She was feeling, she was hearing, she was touching. She was surrounded by a small group of scared kids that she was a part of and being a part of something resonated enough to remind her that she too was existing and breathing and being.

The warm press of skin and presence of other consciousnesses was enough that Katara could close her eyes and think this is family.