She had the same dream every night. The lighting was racing towards her, and all she could do was stare at it. Though she willed her feet to move, though adrenalin spiked through her, she remained rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breath, unable to think. And then, suddenly, he was running, and, suddenly, he was falling, and, suddenly, he was dead.
And, usually, she would wake up, safe in her bed, and she would tell herself that he was alive, that she healed him. But as soon as she would close her eyes again, she longed to get down on her hands and knees in front of him and plead for forgiveness, to say sorry for ever doubting his loyalty. But she wouldn't. She would lay in her bed, cursing herself for being such a coward.
Sometimes, however, the dream would continue. The lighting would chase her away from him, making it impossible for her to heal him. She would become surrounded by blue fire, and Azula would emerge from the flames, a crazed look on her face, ready to kill. Lightning would dance around her hand, waiting to do whatever its master wanted. And then, Azula would strike. And Katara would crawl towards Zuko with the last of her strength, and they would die, together, as the comet soared above them.
I don't own Avatar, and I probably never will, just to clear things up.
This is my first fic, so, if you comment, try not to be too mean. Constructive criticism is appreciated, though. :)