I bet you guys thought I died. Nope! My love of AtLA tho kinda went on hiatus… then I came up with this last night! So here is my collective note for all of my other stories: They are on hiatus until I get proper motivation. I don't mind if some of you wish to continue, just give me a heads up! (and I'd love to beta any continuations ;] ) So without further ado…
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar or the awesomeness that will always be Natasha Bedingfield ;]
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Seeing him after battling Azula was like a drink of water after being stranded in the desert – and she would know the feeling. Yes, while she was fighting the crazy princess she was 100 percent focused on surviving, but her worry of where her bald companion was at the moment still pressed on her mind. She kept thinking back to the eve of his outburst and even further back to the night of that horrid play. But even all of that emotional turmoil couldn't compare to her ever-growing worry. She just needed to see him, hold him in her arms, hear his laugh again make sure he was real and okay. So, to say it was a relief to see him standing proudly next to the newly crowned Fire Lord would be an understatement, even though she had had a brief talk (via healing session) with him a few hours before. This time though… this time she couldn't help but notice how he had aged. He wasn't that same dorky kid she found in the iceberg a year (had I been that long?) before. Well, okay so he would always be a kid at heart, but he had also matured in a way that most 13-year-olds wouldn't until they were, say, 30.
With this new insight, Katara also realized something. Yes, while this being before her was the all-powerful and wise Avatar, he was still just a kid when it got down to it, with the weight of a whole world – no, TWO whole worlds ("bridge" remember?) – on his still maturing shoulders. He still needed help, A LOT of help. And – though it might be a bit vain of her to think so – she knew she was one of the very few (if there were others) who could give him that help. Not just on the wisdom and ruling level either. On the down to Earth, one soul-to-another level. NO ONE knew him like she did. NO ONE could be his shoulder to lean on or that reassuring hand on his shoulder like she was. He needed her. And if she was honest with herself, she needed him too. No, she couldn't leave him to the calls on "duty" and "family" back at the Southern Watertribe. For he was her duty and family. Right here by his side was where she was needed most. What the world needed most. How could she possibly leave him? Their journey together had just begun.
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"Aang, you should rest tomorrow. It's been a long week and I'm worried that you're coming down with something."
"Katara – cough – I'm fine really – sniffle -. The Court is depending on me tomorrow to be there to sign Proposal 5B. It could be the answer to the economic problems the Earth Kingdom is suffering I could just – "
"No."
"But – "
"NO. You need your rest and if I have to get Zuko to weld you to the floor, so help me, I will."
Aang sighed. He knew there was no point in arguing with her when she got that stubborn flame in her eyes. Besides, he did feel like he was getting ill. It was understandable – the cold I mean. He hadn't had a moment to himself in the three months since the war was over. Everyone needed him to clean up Ozai's (and Roku's indirectly) mess and they needed attention "immediately". All of them. All of the millions of people in the remaining three nations. Aang sighed once more as he felt the ever-pressing burden of the world weigh down heavier on his tired shoulders. It seemed that whenever one qualm was settled, more sprouted in its place, like a bad infestation of swamp mushroom weeds. But he felt his companion's arms snake around his waist from behind. Smiling, he leaned his head against hers as it rested on his shoulder, reminded that he was not alone under this burden. Through thick and thin, Katara would always be with him – that she promised him the day she wordlessly announced that it was "the right time".
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He was finally asleep again. He had repeatedly awoken that night due to coughing fits. Faithfully she had administered herbal teas and medicine each time he stirred and she hoped this time he would remain asleep. The first silhouettes of dawn were peeping over the horizon they had been up all night; well – she had. Crawling back in next to the unconscious Avatar (he shook violently with the chills), Katara pressed as close as she could, rubbing his arms hoping to transfer some heat.
When a pageboy walking in some time later to announce the time of the meeting, Katara silently raged at him that Aang was in absolutely no condition to move even an inch from the bed, much less fit to put up with a bunch of "stuck-up, greedy political bastards in monkey suits." Yeah, she never was much of a morning person as the poor pageboy found out the hard way.
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She woke sweaty to Aang's worried (and bloodshot) gaze.
"Katara, are you okay?" his managed to croak out. For whatever reason – be it exhaustion, guilt, or a combination of the two – the waterbender began sobbing. The Avatar gently pulled her to his much-too-warm body (which made her cry harder) and gently cooed for her to calm down. "Shh, shh, it's okay, it was just a bad dream. I'm right here, shh." His hands rhythmically moved up and down her back in soothing motions. The nightmare (Aang lying dead at her feet while faceless nobles pleaded with the lifeless corpse to help them) slowly slipped from her mind as guilt replaced fear. Now wasn't the time for a breakdown. Aang was dreadfully ill and her she was getting worked up over a bad dream!
"Aang, you need to go back to sleep. I'm fine, just worry about getting better," Katara whispered, the words tinged with anger at herself. Obviously hearing the upset in her voice, Aang gently held her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. Most would find such an act romantic, but this communication between the two was far from it and only used for sterner commands. The storm in his eyes this time said it all: It's not your fault. Nodding to his unspoken berating, Katara settled herself back beside him. Soon, his breathing evened out and he was once more in his drugged sleep. For a while, she lay awake, angrily rebuking her subconscious for its insecurities and doubts. The image of Aang's lifeless body was still sharp in her mind though – both in dreams and memories. NO! she scolded herself. She would never let that happen again. Never would she let the Fire Nation, or anyone else for that matter, harm him again. Never. Her resolve strengthened, Katara held the sleeping Avatar closer as she too slipped back under.
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If I could be your angel
Protect you from the pain,
I'll keep you safe from danger
You'll never hurt again.
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That's the end of my momentary mental splurge for Kataang fluff. I hope you enjoyed the story! Please review! Hugs and kisses to all of those who do! :]