I don't own Avatar, you have to believe me! You've got the wrong guy! Oh, I thought it was the ninjas again. Whew!

Fool Yourself

Katara scampered away from the struggling Azula as quickly as she could, so quickly and so urgently that she didn't even feel the muscle burn, her heart's pounding against her rib cage, or her lungs hastily gulp the hot air around her. Her mind was unfocused; instinct had taken over. Speed would only be hampered by her consciousness.

Single-mindedly she found Zuko on the ground of the singed courtyard, stomach pressed against the ground, searching in vain for the strength to push himself to his feet. In a flowing, nearly graceful desperation, she rolled him over and onto his back, barely registering his grunts of pain. She analyzed where the lightning had hit him, not allowing herself to be afraid for his life. Now was not the time for thought, no matter the gravity of his injuries. She reached for her canteen and mechanically brought a water-encased hand over his chest, feeling the energy flow through her body and out her hands. Now in deep concentration, she probed his burns for their center and applied the healing as powerfully as she could.

Zuko groaned under the pressure for a few moments, but eventually Katara felt the knots in his nervous system untie, falling away with greater and greater ease as she worked. Doubting her skills, she turned to Zuko's face and saw his eyes closed, the muscles in his face relaxed and relieved. Katara could only display a gaping smile.

"Thank you, Katara," croaked Zuko, barely strong enough to use his vocal chords.

Tears already flowing, Katara said the first thing she could thought: "I think I'm the one who should be thanking you."

She reached her arm behind his back to help him up, and with natural fluidity of motion leaned over him and pressed her lips into his. Everything made sense, from the warm tingling she felt all along her body to the limp arm draped around her waist. Without ever before realizing it, Katara knew that her action at that moment was going to happen from the beginning. Their lips let go of each other and the pair fell into a tender hug. And despite not knowing how the battle between Aang and Ozai was faring, Katara felt so sure that everything was over, that everything was going to be all right.

Zuko sighed and smiled, eyes still closed, and Katara's consciousness flooded back into her. She withdrew from him and stared reproachfully at into his eyes, as if disgusted. Suddenly she realized what had happened, what she had done, and found herself unable to face him.

"Oh!" she managed weakly, her eyes in the corner. "What did I just do?"

She felt Zuko's hand press against the back of her neck. "This," he whispered, eyes still closed, lips pursed.

Katara pushed his hand away and scooted away. "No, this isn't right," she said, shaking her head. Why was the only thing she could look at in that courtyard the former Fire Prince? "I wasn't supposed to – Why did I do that?"

Zuko groaned as propped his abdomen up with his forearm, barely lifting his head. "Katara…" he began to say.

"No," Katara insisted. The only way to rid herself of Zuko's image was to close her eyes. "No, don't. Why did you let me do that?" she accused. "Aang, it's supposed to be him. He's the one who – Not you – It's not supposed to be this way!"

Katara heard a thump in Zuko's direction. She opened her eyes to see that he had fallen back to the ground, his limbs awkwardly spread about. "Stop trying to fool yourself," he grunted, barely audible but still crystal clear for Katara.

She found herself unable to say anything in response. She could hear Zuko's labored breathing and understood it instantly to mean he was gathering the strength to say more. She didn't want to hear his voice anymore. She didn't want to know him anymore. She wished she could go back to Gran Gran in the South Pole and go penguin sledding with a goofy kid with an arrow on his head, thinking of nothing else but the wind blowing through her hair. But by the time she worked up the will to interrupt Zuko, he had continued with his labored speech.

"I'm supposed to be with Mai right now," he said through gasps for air. "She's the one who loves me, and I love her too, or I thought I did." He paused for more air, giving Katara a moment to shiver despite the warmth, a moment to dissect his every word and grapple desperately for a way it could mean something other that what she thought it meant.

"I should be next to my father," Zuko continued, "having finally earned his respect. Together we should be defeating the avatar and ruling the world. I should live happily with Mai, like I had always wanted, since the day I was banished. But it didn't feel right."

Zuko forced his head up and locked his eyes onto hers, and Katara could not look away. His form grew blurry once tears again welled up in her eyes. She knew what he was going to say next, and she could not help but reluctantly agree. He said, "You can't deny that what just happened felt right."

Katara's next impulse was to rush over to him and lunge into his face, violently kissing him until she forgot everything that mattered. He was right; it had felt right. No matter what she said, she could never keep herself from the knowledge that she wasn't confused for a moment of their kiss, only afterward. And she was terrified by her desire to experience that feeling again, the feeling that everything was in its proper place.

With all the will power she could muster, Katara rejected the feelings. The image of every time she saw the arrows glow and the vengeful ball of swirling air rise into the air, and she knew she couldn't give in to these emotions. "No, it did not feel right," she lied, her tears and cracking giving away the statement's falsehood. "It's supposed to be Aang. He loves me, and… and I love him." The words sounded so wrong coming out of her mouth, like a tsungi hornist handed a xylophone. But she believed them. She wanted to, at least.

"Katara, don't deny it," pleaded Zuko. "Don't hide from yourself."

"I'm not hiding from anything!" she snapped, feeling instantly sorry for overacting. Her mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts, so unlike her adrenaline-induced actions following Azula's defeat. "Look, let's just wait for Aang and the others to get back."

"But we have Appa," protested Zuko, erupting into a fit of coughs.

"We can't just leave Azula here, can we?" retorted Katara. She turned her glare towards the red clouds above, determined not to waver.

If only Aang came back soon, she fantasized, everything would somehow resolve and the taste of Zuko's lips would wash away from her tongue. But inside her, within the corners of her mind she never dared to dust out, she knew that she couldn't resist forever. It was only a matter of time before she gave in and stopped fooling herself. This was a knowledge that both she and Zuko shared, and made them both secretly and subconsciously look forward to the future.

Fine.

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Sorry, friends. Or, er, former friends. I can explain!

Former Friends: [glaring] There's nothing to explain!

Samtana: I know you all want to kill me, but hear me out! Please! Ow! Stop throwing things at me! Ow! Quit it! What are those things, anyway?

Former Friends: They're shards of Aang's frozen tears that he cried after reading this.

Aang: [sneering] The salt makes it hurt more when they cut you.

Samtana: Ow! Stop! Ow! That hurts! Ow! Ow!

This story has probably lost me a lot of friends. Which meant I had to write it. I like to take risks. At your expense. A friend (you know who you are) asked if I'd have possibly felt okay if Zutara won, so I had to try writing a scenario that I could live with. This was very hard to write! So Zutarians, be honest: how'd I do? Flames and icicles welcome.

Former Friends: Okay.

Samtana: Ow! Stop! I mean it! Ow!

Aang: [starts glowing]

Samtana: Uh, gotta run.

-samtana