Disclaimer Haiku:
So very not mine,
Which is a shame, but also
Not, since canon rocks!
A/N: I've never written AtLA fic before, so I'm a little shaky on characterisation, but I hope I've done okay. I love these characters and don't want to ruin them. Any and all feedback appreciated. Set in an indeterminate timeframe during Book One.
Mystical Cords of Memory
© Scribbler, October 2007.
'What sets sisters apart from brothers and also from friends is a very intimate meshing of heart, soul and the mystical cords of memory.' -Carol Saline
"Aang…"
"Huh?" Aang was aware his head had nodded onto his chest because he had to look up to identify the speaker. He blinked into the firelight.
Beyond the sputtering flames, Sokka lay stretched on the dirt floor, a thin blanket drawn from toe to chin. Beyond him, Katara sat against the cave wall, her eyes huge and Momo curled in her lap. She stroked him absently.
"Do you think…" she chewed her lip. "Do you think Sokka will die?"
It was terrible to hear the raw anxiety in her voice. Aang thought back to Sokka's raging fever and the bigger boy's shallow breathing as they carried him from where he'd fallen in the forest. It was only a chill from travelling through rampant downpours to keep ahead of their enemies. They all had runny noses and sore throats, but Sokka's had morphed into something more, and Katara refused to go any further until he was well again.
Watching her and processing her question, Aang was reminded of the bond between brother and sister he'd never experienced while growing up in the Air Temple. Sokka and Katara fought and argued and spat venomous insults at each other, but would lay down their lives for each other in a heartbeat. Friends were brilliant, but sometimes Aang wished he'd been left on the steps with a sibling or two.
"Aang?"
Sokka's face was the grey of raw concrete, his chin and upper lip showing signs of fluff he would usually shave off and his cheeks beginning to pinch since they couldn't get anything more than liquid past his lips, and only that much by Katara's waterbending. His hair hadn't been washed in three days and stringy locks had worked their way free of his ponytail. He liked to think he wasn't vain, but Aang, Katara, Momo and Appa all knew Sokka would hate to look this way if he were conscious enough to realise it. His breathing seemed more laboured than ever, with a rusty grumble deep in his chest. He needed a real healer, but they were miles from any village and any journey might just finish what his fever had started.
Aang knew all this as he met Katara's eyes over the flames and her brother's head. He knew it, and he also knew something else. He knew he couldn't bear to tell her the truth, even though she probably knew it already. Katara wasn't stupid.
"Sokka, die? No way! He'll be fine, Katara, you'll see."
The unease in Katara's eyes didn't ease at all. She ran her hand over Momo in a pattern like music notes in a fireside song from her childhood. "He always used to baby me about getting a cold, you know. When we were kids he'd chase me inside if I hadn't put on all my thermals. I used to hate it, but he was only looking out for me. Ever since Mom died and Dad went away, Sokka was always looking out for me…"
Aang got to his feet. The moon was high and the night air sharp, but he marched purposefully to the cave entrance and yipped for Appa.
"Aang?" Katara scrambled to her feet. "What are you-?"
"He needs a healer."
"But we can't move him, he's too weak-"
"We can't take him to a healer, but I can bring a healer to him."
"But even if you do find one willing to come out here, we don't have any money to pay for a healer."
Aang turned and winked at her with more confidence than he felt. "I'm the Avatar, remember? Solving impossible problems is my specialty. I'll think of something."
Her eyes seemed extra blue in the pale light. Ordinarily she might have argued more, but now she just bit her lip and said, "Please hurry."
Aang's heart wrenched with something he was only beginning to understand. He nodded, and then he and Appa launched off into the night.
Fin.
