AN: I started this LAST AUGUST but never finished it. (Oops.) Well, almost a year later, here we are. Enjoy!

xXx

The only light came from the dim, controlled flame that Zuko held in his palm. He lay motionless, yet restless, in his sleeping bag, staring up at the starry sky. The firebender studied his little flame, letting it light up his face, his golden eyes, and the scar that forever marred his appearance. He sighed.

"Can't sleep?" said a sudden voice from somewhere to his right.

An enemy! Zuko's mind screamed. The prince scrambled to his feet, the tiny flame in his hand expanding. His heart was pounding.

"No! No, Zuko, it's just me!" gasped the same voice. In the light of his flame, Zuko made out Katara, sitting up in the grass where her sleeping bag lay. Her blue eyes were wide, but she looked tired.

"Oh… sorry." Zuko took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It's Katara. Just Katara.

He diminished his flame, reducing it until it was as small as it had been before. "I heard a voice and… you know."

"You thought I was an enemy." Her voice was fair, and matter-of-fact. She didn't sound mad, just apathetic.

"Well… yeah." Zuko sat back down. "I didn't mean to wake you up and everything."

"I wasn't sleeping." admitted the waterbender girl.

"No?"

"I was actually watching you firebend." she said. "It was surprisingly pretty."

Zuko's face felt warm, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable in his own skin. "I'm glad." he replied, hoping she didn't hear the tremor running rampant in his voice.

She didn't. She looked deep in thought. "After what happened to my mother, I never thought I would ever think firebending was pretty."

Zuko's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Obviously, it hurt him to think of what Katara had been through as a child, something she had carried with her throughout her whole life. But he also knew too well that when she looked at him, she only saw the Fire Nation soldier who had killed her mother. They were all the same to her, after all. One violent Fire Nation man to the other.

"It can be." he told her, gently swaying his fingers. His little fire twisted and squirmed. "It just depends on who is using it."

"Says you. Firebending is usually destructive, especially in your hands."

"Well… yeah." admitted Zuko.

It had destroyed her mother. But it had also destroyed his face. She wasn't the only victim there.

Zuko took a deep breath, and began. "I know you think of… of him, whenever you look at me." he said. "You know. Yon Rha. And I just wanted you to know that I'm not him."

Katara gave a soft little incredulous laugh that made Zuko's chest ache. "I don't think of Yon Rha when I look at you." she replied.

"You… you don't?"

"No way." Katara shook her head. Her blue eyes were like chips of ice over a deep sea. "I don't think of the man who killed my mother when I look at you, Zuko. I think of the boy who chased Aang, Sokka and I across the whole world. The boy who tried to capture us. The boy who gained my trust back in Ba Sing Se- and the boy who threw it all away."

Zuko winced. "Look… Katara, you know how sorry I am for all that."

"That doesn't change what you did. Or what I think of it all."

"But can it change what you think of me?" tried the prince. "All I want is to make you trust me again. I just want us to be friends." And more, he thought to himself, although he would never say that to her face.

The truth was that Zuko loved Katara. He loved her spirit, her determination. The way she hated him frustrated him beyond belief. He tried so hard to make her like him- like the rest of the group already did- but he hadn't had much luck so far.

Just another thing to add to my long list of regrets, thought Zuko bitterly. He wondered absentmindedly what advice Iroh would have given him about Katara. The thought of his uncle made his heart ache even more.

"I know you're friends with Aang, Sokka, Toph, and the rest of our group now." hissed Katara. "Don't think for an instant that I'm next."

"Fine." Bitter, Zuko sat back down on his sleeping bag. Katara looked pointedly away from him, but did not close her eyes. Zuko reached over into his bag and pulled out the portrait of Iroh, his thoughts now locked completely on his uncle.

"What's that?" asked Katara.

Zuko didn't look over at her. "None of your business."

A few seconds of silence passed, and then she was crouching beside him, glancing at what he had in his hands. "It's your uncle."

"What's it to you?" Zuko pressed the portrait to his chest, self-conscious.

She stared at him for a moment, and then asked, "Do you have any portraits of your mother?"

"I did, back in the Fire Nation." replied Zuko. "I don't have them anymore."

"You didn't bother taking them with you when you left?" Katara raised one eyebrow, pursing her lips.

When I… left!? Zuko was overcome with a surge of anger so fierce that it took all of his willpower not to just scream, then and there. "I didn't just leave the Fire Nation like some kind of vacation or whatever, Katara! I was banished! My father burned me-" He jabbed a finger at the scar on his face. "-and then he banished me. I had no time to pack my bags. As soon as the healers told my uncle I was well enough that I wouldn't just die on the journey, I had to leave."

She didn't look shocked, or scared, or angry. Her expression was still just full of apathy. "I meant when you left the Fire Nation and came here to find us."

"R-Right." Zuko's gaze fell to the ground, heat rising into his face. "Er… when I got there, my father had already burned all of the family portraits and anything belonging to my mother. There was nothing left."

"Oh." Her eyes softened slightly, which he was not expecting to happen. Am I finally getting somewhere with her? Zuko wondered.

"Yeah." was all he managed in response.

"So… what happened to her, anyway?" asked Katara.

"I don't know. One day she was there… and the next day, she wasn't." Zuko's voice was shaking as he spoke. "My father never told me what happened. I think he killed her, though."

Katara's eyes widened. "You think your own father killed your mother?"

"Does that really seem so unlikely to you, considering who he is and what's he's already done?" asked Zuko.

"I guess not."

Zuko looked back at the portrait. Although the artist had drawn his uncle uncharacteristically emotionless and stoic, the banished prince could still see Iroh's wide grin and smiling eyes, like a ghost in his head. With that image came a vision of the hurt he'd seen in his uncle's eyes; the anger, pain, and disappointment that still haunted him. Zuko closed his eyes, willing the images to leave him. He was so desperately lost without Iroh.

"If you're trying to make me feel sorry for you, it's not working." Katara hissed. She looked defensive all of a sudden.

"It's not an act." Zuko told her bleakly. "I just miss… having people care about me."

Her eyes widened, and he watched her lips part slightly, a barely guarded look of surprise and sympathy overcoming her soft features. Zuko looked away from her, only to feel one of her hands come up onto his shoulder. A shiver coursed down his spine. He had to speak. Speak more. Let the words rush from his lips. It felt good to finally let the words out. They had been caged birds inside of him, fluttering and sickening him. Besides, it seemed like he was finally getting somewhere with her.

"You know how my father is. You know how Azula is. You can imagine how my childhood was." continued Zuko. "I was raised to be like them. The only thing keeping me from my father's violent ideals was my mother. Until…" His voice trailed off, and it took him a few moments to speak again. When he did, it wasn't much. "I was eleven."

"So she just… disappeared?"

"Yeah."

"And you think your father killed her? Why would he? Didn't he love her?"

"I don't know. He never loved us, so why would he love her? Did he even have the capacity to love?" He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well… I'm sorry." said Katara. "I lost my mother too, so I know how you feel."

"I'm sorry about your loss." Zuko replied. "I guess we do have one thing in common, huh?"

She nodded. "And… we both want to help Aang. Right?"

Her words took him by surprise. "Y-Yes, of course we do. What, you believe me now?"

"I'm not completely sure." admitted Katara. "But I think I can tell that you have good in you." With a soft yawn, Katara stuck her legs back into her sleeping bag. "I think I'm going to get some sleep now."

"All right. You do that." Zuko said. "And Katara… thank you."

"It's fine." She lay back down, but did not close her eyes. They were trained on Zuko's face. "Are you not going to sleep?"

"I can't."

"What are you thinking about?"

"My father." confessed Zuko quietly. He was still subconsciously hugging the portrait of Iroh to his chest. The way he had carelessly turned away the one man who had truly loved him still made him feel sick. And for whom? His father, Ozai? Iroh had been more of a father to him than Ozai ever would be.

Even in the darkness, Zuko could see the compassion in her eyes. Despite the fact that Katara could hold a grudge, she was a caring person first and foremost. "Don't waste your energy worrying about him." she told him. "You're safe here."

She was right. His father would not come looking for Aang; he knew that Aang would find him when the time was right. For the time being, they were in a safe place.

"You're right. Um, I think I will try and get some sleep now." said the firebender, as he curled back up on the ground.

Just as he was closing his eyes, he heard Katara's voice again. "And, Zuko?"

"Yes?"

"You deserve to have people care about you."

A smile spread across Zuko's face. "Thank you, Katara. You do too."

He knew he would think about her when he fell asleep. For the first time since he had left his uncle's side, someone wanted him to be happy, and it felt good.

end