I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender at all. Just writing for fun, hope you enjoy :)
His heart ached from the pain he had always known. She couldn't ever understand. Yes; she'd been through pain, too, but not like this. She would never know the pain that he knew. It made him angry to think about; her righteous anger because the fire nation had caused her grief. Well it had caused him grief, too. And he would always have the scar to prove it. At least her father was alive and cared for her. For all he knew, his mother was dead and his father had disowned him. He had no one other than an uncle who cared for him, and even he was gone now. She had friends, a father, a tribe. People who loved her. That only made him want to hate her all the more. But the more he felt for hate, the more he could only feel the loneliness inside of him. The inside was as scarred as the outside. If only she could see that; maybe she wouldn't be so hurtful. She didn't realize how every jab she made at him cut deep into already open wounds. His only defense was to strike back, to hurt her emotionally, like she was hurting him.
Though he'd been accepted to the group, she still couldn't accept him herself. She couldn't see who he was trying so hard to become. He wanted to be a better person, to leave the life he had lived for so long behind him. But she wouldn't let him.
"Please, Katara," he said pitifully, almost in a whisper, like the words were hard to say.
She stopped, obviously taken aback.
"I'm so… I'm so sorry for everything that I've done to you; I'm sorry for what the fire nation has done to you but please… I'm not that person anymore, can't you see?" He didn't want to cry; he had never cried before anyone before. And when he was alone, he only allowed himself to cry during his most desperate times. But still, the tears were hot on his cheeks. He couldn't keep it back anymore.
"You don't understand what I've been throu-" she started.
"No, Katara. I couldn't possibly know," he said sharply. He walked out of the room with a wider hole in his chest than he'd walked in with. He really had no one.
The days passed and she said nothing to him. She even avoided him. He was quieter after that. He trained Aang and ate with the group, but other than that he kept to himself. He couldn't bear watching their companionship and knowing he would never truly be a part of it.
Then she came to him one night, while the wind was blowing fiercely outside and the moon was only a thin fingernail hanging in a dark, starless sky.
She said nothing; she simply walked to his bedside and sat down next to him. He didn't even bother sitting up. Instead, he rolled to his side so his back faced her.
He heard her pull out her water from her pouch. Then something smooth and cooling touched his back. He felt himself unwillingly relax. What was she doing to him? He knew she had the gift of healing, but she couldn't possibly ease his emotional damage, could she?
His eyes couldn't help but close, and he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
When he awoke the next morning he found that she had fallen asleep next to him. He was taken aback. He jumped out of bed. He knew she couldn't have meant to fall asleep here, and he didn't want anyone to think he had hurt her in any way. He rushed out of the room as quickly as he could, running in whichever direction his feet would take him.
He stopped at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a shallow river, shimmering in the sunlight. He felt the cool breeze ease his troubled mind. She had done something that changed him. He was still hurt in a way no water could ever heal, but something inside him was a little more at ease. He just couldn't understand it.
He went back later in the day, when the sun was high in the afternoon sky, sending tall shadows stretching across the grass. For once in his life, he could appreciate the beauty of his surroundings.
When he reached the group, he caught her eye. She smiled at him. He did not return the smile, but instead sat down with a confused look. For the rest of the night, he said nothing. When the sun had died down he left silently to return to his room.
He was almost to his door when he heard her voice. It sounded like crystal, clear and beautiful.
"I'm sorry, too, Zuko," she said plainly. "I wish I hadn't hurt you." He could hear her voice about ten yards behind him. She was somewhere hidden in the darkness, he knew, and he didn't turn around to face it.
Her words rang through his mind. The idea that she had personally hurt him. Before, he would have laughed at the idea. But he realized now that he could easily be torn down, even by someone like her.
"I can try," she said quietly. "To fix your scar. I'll try Zuko, if you'll let me." But he didn't respond. Instead he went silently into his room, where he lay awake for the rest of the night.
When morning came, he didn't want to get out of his bed. Perhaps he should have stayed with the fire nation; if only he had never spoken out against his father…
But he knew his father's ways were wrong, and that inside himself was something better, something that wanted to fight against the evil his father was bringing to the world. He just felt too hopeless to follow through.
Weeks went by as Zuko trained Aang tirelessly in preparation for the invasion. All the while, he said nothing to her, though he would occasional look over to her and catch her staring at him, longing for him to say something.
He did want her to heal his scar, but not just to look like a normal human again. He began to ache for her to touch him again, the way she had that night, when she healed something inside of him. He would lie awake at night, thinking about her touch and how it had changed him. He even began to think of her face. He began to think of how beautiful she really was. She was fierce and passionate and beautiful. Yet she was out of his reach.
One night, when the thoughts of her hands on his back became too much to bear, he went walking through the air temple. The halls were dark but peaceful, and he reflected on everything that was happening in his life.
He heard a rustle, perhaps a footstep. His hands immediately lit up with fire.
"Who's there?" he roared. He was sworn to protect the Avatar now, even if that meant hurting his own family. And he knew there was a very real chance that this was his sister, Azula, lurking in the shadows.
"It's me," he heard her voice say, and the fire in his hands went out, though the fire in his heart grew stronger.
He stood motionless. She moved closer to him.
She said nothing, but inched closer and closer, as though afraid he might snap at any sudden movements and harm her.
Finally, he couldn't take it any longer.
"Please, whatever you did that night, when you healed me, I would do anything for you to do that again," he said desperately. He couldn't see her face, but she stopped in her tracks.
"What?" She asked, confusion in her voice.
"You know what I'm talking about," he thundered. "When you came to my room and healed me."
"Zuko, I… I didn't heal you. I just touched you. That's all." She said plainly.
Now he was the one confused.
"But when you did, something changed," he said, unable to hide the confusion in his voice. "I felt different. You did something that eased my soul, Katara. I need that again." He was only the edge of utter despair. If she didn't do it again, he felt he would die.
She moved so close to him this time that he could feel her heat. He leaned in ever so slightly, hoping to brush even just her tunic.
"Zuko," she whispered. And she put her hand on his bare chest.
Immediately, sparks began to fly in Zuko's mind. He became weak at his knees, something he was sure would never happen to him.
With her other hand, she cupped his face. Looking her in the eye made him dizzy, but he couldn't drop his gaze from hers. Her blue eyes sang to him. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
He reached up and entertwined his fingers with the hand that lay on his chest. With his other hand, he pulled her towards him, their lips about to meet. Her breath was hot on his face. His entire body felt as though he were struck with lightening, and he couldn't redirect it.
He dropped her hand, stepped back. This was wrong. He had seen how Aang looked at her; he knew he would never forgive him. So Zuko ran.
He ran to the cliff where he had gone that morning after Katara had visited him. He dropped to his knees and pounded the earth with his fists, letting out breaths of fire, scorching the grass around him.
Finally he fell asleep, exhausted from all of the emotion, and he lay there in the burnt grass until the next afternoon.
He couldn't possibly go back and face her. What would he say? What would he do? Would he drop to his knees at the sight of her? Would he be angry and lash out? He couldn't know, so he didn't go back that day. Or the next day. Or the next. And no one came to look for him.
Finally, after days of being alone in the fields, he began to walk back. He wondered what she had told the group. Surely she wouldn't tell them about what really happened. It would crush Aang.
He arrived to a battle; Azula had found their hideout.
He ran to the scene, searching for Katara. He was sworn to protect the Avatar, but all he could think of was her.
He found her in a heated battle with one of Azula's men. She looked exhausted, about to give in. Just as the soldier was about to strike her, Zuko unleashed a firebolt so fast and so hot that it knocked the man off the side of the temple, sending him hurtling into the abyss. He turned his head sharply, fire building in his eyes. He picked her up and ran into the other room. He set her down as though she were a fragile glass vase and ran out again; the battle wasn't over. He was, after all, sworn to protect the Avatar.
In the midst of the fighting going on all around them, Zuko marched directly to Azula, who was standing perfectly still with a cocky smirk on her face. She was waiting for him. The siblings fought fire with fire, neither gaining ground.
Then Zuko thought of Katara; he thought of her face, her features, her touch. He thought of how she could both hurt him and heal him more than anyone else ever could. And he overpowered Azula. He fought her right over the edge of the cliff, and watched as she tumbled down to follow after her men. He realized she would probably somehow make it out alive, but he had one the battle, though the war wasn't over. When he could no longer see her falling, he turned and walked directly to Katara, who was fighting another soldier. With one flick of his wrist, he threw the man over the cliff with a line of fire, and using the other arm, he pulled Katara close to him and kissed her in a fiery passion.