Disclaimer: Avatar and all related titles, characters, and logos are © Nickelodeon Studios and the brilliant minds of Mike and Bryan.
Author's Notes: A short little oneshot I wrote in like… well, not very long. I'm actually working on a modern-day Maiko (even though I can't stand that ship), but it's progressing very slowly. I have no idea how those characters are supposed to act around each other; it's just like… I feel like a fish out of water. Hnn… I'm retreating back into my comfort zone, which is basically me writing about Sokka angst. Sokkangst. Yes.
Drifting
I opened my eyes to a blazing sky and rising sun. Morning in the Western Air Temple was unusually quiet, and I solemnly mulled this over before blinking rapidly and stretching my arms high above my head. I groaned, hearing the satisfying pop of my joints and feeling the stretching of unused muscles. My face buried itself back into my sleeping mat, more to get away from the already-scorching temperature than out of exhaustion.
"Sokka, get up." A foot nudged my back, and a low murmur erupted from my throat against my will. I slapped away the foot just so I could revel in my last few remaining moments of precious sleep. My tormentor sighed. "You are so lazy."
That could only be Katara. I blinked lazily and cautiously opened my eyes, staring up into her glaring face. I yawned, but only to annoy her. Much to my delight, it worked. She gave me that disgusted look and stomped off, perhaps to arrange the fruits for breakfast or get a head-start on laundry for the day.
Y'know, girl stuff like that.
I chuckled to myself. Annoying Katara was one of the few constants in my life, and I reveled in it whenever I could. I pulled myself out of bed and prepared to face the day.
--
It didn't take me long. Wolf tail, check. All of my clothes, check. Sword, boomerang, machete, assorted knives, spear, club, and animal jawbone dagger, check, check, and check. I did a quick pit-sniff test before deciding I was in the clear and traipsing off to breakfast. The rest of our little group were already there, sitting around the fire pit and chatting quietly. I grabbed one of the last remaining fruits from the basket and, ignoring Katara's evil glare, I plopped down in my place between Suki and Zuko. As I bit into the juicy mango, I could feel my sister's icy eyes on me. She was probably still upset about this morning.
Oh well. She'll get over it.
I sneered at him as Sokka continued to eat his fruit, blissfully unaware of my heated gaze. How could he just ignore me like that? How dare he? After how lazy he was this morning… he probably didn't even do his chores. As usual.
I sighed. My brother was so frustrating sometimes… all the time, rather. Obnoxious. Loud. Rude. Invasive. In-your-face. Witty in that annoying, why-didn't-I-think-of-that way. Disgusting. Ate like a pig. All the time. I was quickly growing tired of having to be his surrogate mother—Sokka do this, Sokka go gather some firewood, Sokka blah blah blah blah. It had been this way from day one. It was like he was a child, completely incapable of taking care of himself!
I sighed and turned back to my mango. (No way I was eating a papaya.) I saw Aang shoot me a concerned look out of the corner of his eye, but I ignored him and pretended not to notice his heavy gaze. He breathed out softly and turned away.
I felt rather guilty, actually, but Aang would understand once I explained my exasperation over Sokka. One of these days.
--
After a long, hard day of bending practice, washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning, nightfall came quickly, and with it, so did the after supper campfire time. Gin Seng, The Duke, Haru, and Teo all decided to turn in early, leaving the core five members of the Gaang plus Dad and Suki alone to sit quietly and poke at the campfire. I grabbed a strand of chocolate brown hair and ran my nimble fingers over it softly. The heat of the day had yet to wear away into the coolness of the night, and I noticed that those of us who were unaccustomed to the more intense heat of the Equator were sweating somewhat profusely. I, however, just Waterbended most of it away, keeping myself effectively cool and sweat-free at the same time.
I saw my brother Sokka gazing into the fire, leaning back against the fallen log, arms crossed. I could not read the expression on his face, which was unusual. Usually, his face was so full of expression and personality that even a blind person could tell what he was feeling.
But today? No. His face was blank, angular jaw set, blue eyes effectively staring into the empty nothingness beyond our little campfire. I noticed how his lips were drawn into a thin line—the same way our father's became when he was upset or thinking.
I supposed it was the latter. Sokka was supposed to be our "Idea Guy," after all.
I stared at him, hoping the weight of my gaze would somehow cause him to look up at me.
It worked.
But we were so far away. My loving oceanic orbs crashed against his thoughtful icy ones, and there was a connection. But there was also a rift. I felt a little pang in my heart when I realized how far we had drifted. Back at the South Pole, Sokka and I were all we had. We relied on each other, believed in each other. We were our own best friends.
But now? The war had changed us. The battles, the new friends and enemies, the many hair-raising adventures we had undergone both together and apart… I doubted it would ever be the same.
I smiled sadly, watching him shift in his position on the ground ever so slightly. I remembered how we used to be able to communicate with just a single look. Maybe it would work… just one last time.
Remember? I said. Remember how it used to be?
Sokka looked confused, dark brown eyebrows knit together softly. But slowly, it cleared away, and his emotionless stone mask was all that was left. But his eyes…! They told so many stories to me.
Yes, I remember, he responded. How could I forget?
We talked not at all, but communicated so much more than I could've hoped for. We relived our old lives, living, laughing, crying, and loving all in the span of a few infinitesimal moments. So many things hung in the air—stories, jokes, tragedies—that all brought back memories. They meant so many different things, and I basked in the knowledge that only he, my brother, and I could ever understand what those things meant.
Because that was all we had left together as brother and sister. A tragic history.
We held each other's gaze for nearly a minute before breaking apart. The experience left me breathless—never before had I re-experienced so many emotions, so many memories in such a short time. Although we shared nothing else that night, I would still occasionally catch her gaze. Her blue eyes were so deep and clear, so full of happiness and joy and love that only came with time. Laughter framed itself around her small mouth, perfect lips drawn together in an amused half-grin that just barely showed her perfectly straight teeth. Her caramel skin and chocolate tresses reminded me of candy; and her young, strong body showed how much she had learned, how far she had come as a master Waterbender—and how much potential she still had left in her. She was wild and spirited and dangerous, so much like the ice and rough oceans we grew up with. But she was also calm and adaptive and loving, like the soft caresses of the waves against the shore. She was the water.
She was literally glowing, radiating an energy unlike any other I had experienced in my life. She was strong, she was beautiful, she was perfect… and she was my sister.
Katara.
Katara.
She was exactly like Mom. And I was so proud of her.
I knew Sokka was staring at me, but I didn't know why. Did I have something stuck in my teeth? … Hmm. Maybe he didn't like the way I put up my hair. I tried to catch his eye again and see if his face gave me any clues, but he was done looking me over and turned his attention back to the campfire.
I marveled at the way the firelight played over his features—the high cheekbones, large ears, and adolescent pointed chin which I knew would grow to become angular and strong. His icy blue eyes were deep and contemplative, reflecting his inner melancholy, but also held a mirthful spark of childlike humor and love for the absurd. His mouth was quirked in a silly lopsided grin, and I knew at any moment a number of sarcastic comments or lewd comebacks could spew forth. His skin was dark (the mark of our Tribe) and rough (told the tale of his bravery, selflessness, and hard work).
Though he was often called "idiot" or "meathead," I knew he was anything but. He was strong and reckless and smart and crafty and very brave, sometimes stupidly so. Just like the animal he worshiped—the Arctic wolf.
And just like the person he worshiped—Dad. I smiled softly. He was so much like him, and I couldn't have been more proud to be his sister.
I looked across the campfire—across Dad, across Suki, Zuko, Aang, and Toph—and I stared at Katara. Perfect Katara. Perfect Katara the Sugar Queen, Surrogate Mother Extraordinaire. When she started staring back, I tilted my head just slightly to the side, got up, and walked away from the campsite. I hoped she would get the message.
She did.
I could hear her happy footsteps bounding after me, completely content yet still a little worried. The rest of the Gaang turned to look at us, curiosity burning in their eyes, but they eventually turned away and began to talk amongst themselves once again. I stopped at a place out of earshot to the rest of the group; we were beside a large stone balcony, staring at the crumpling foundations and the flawless moon above.
As soon as she touched my shoulder, I shivered. Her warm touch sent icy tendrils of emotion up and down my spine. I guess… I had just been pushing people away for so long… so habitually… that even the slightest human contact felt very invasive—yet very comforting.
She was just a tad bit shorter than me, so I looked down at her. She really was exactly like Mom. Comforting, calming, soothing… and in-your-face only when you needed it.
I guess I needed it.
I turned away from her and rested both arms against the cold concrete of the banister. I wasn't surprised when her soft voice sliced through the cold silence like a knife. "It won't ever be the same again, will it?"
It wasn't much of a question, more like a statement of fact. It took me by surprise, nevertheless. I turned to look at her, hoping the darkness of the night would cover any weaknesses that might be showing through. "No. It won't." Then again, I suppose I had been expecting something like this all along.
"I remember…" she started softly. "I remember everything, Sokka. We relied on each other for everything. We loved each other unconditionally, and understood what the other was feeling without even looking." Katara turned to me with large blue eyes. "What happened?"
Her innocence astounded me and left a lump in my throat. I cleared it quietly and ignored the burning sensations behind my eyes. I spoke. "I don't know," was all I could choke out.
Disappointment was evident in her face, and the sadness I saw in her nearly broke my heart in two. She looked down again at the moss-covered guardrail. "I'm not saying everything's going to be the same after this," she started slowly, "but I do want… something. It won't be the same as what we had before, but…" I knew what she was talking about. I smiled; she didn't have to say anything else. But she did.
"I want to be your friend again, Sokka. Your best friend."
My heart leapt into my throat. She had felt so cold, so distant, so unlike my baby sister that it was beginning to scare me. And the worst part was, it had felt like I had no control over it whatsoever. It was spiraling out of my hands. Katara was quickly becoming a woman, and even though I was present physically, I was missing every second of it.
I wanted no more of that. And now, I realized with pure joy, that she wanted no more as well. We were both sick of the pushing away and the silence and the put-downs and the hanging out to dry.
(The silences were the worst parts.)
But now? There didn't have to be any more silences. No more awkward moments between us. Of course there would be fighting; that's what we did. It was natural—a way to preserve a perfectly normal, healthy sibling relationship.
I smiled stupidly, love and joy and just a little bit of brotherly affection seeping from every pore of my body. "Of course." I knew what she meant.
She knew what I meant.
I yearned to wrap my arms around her, my heart aching desperately to hug her and hold her once again as Katara, my sister, my pride and joy. But I did not. I knew she was growing up, and she probably had no use for such a silly thing. Such a useless display of emotions. If she could read my mind, she would probably be laughing out loud.
…
Well.
She threw herself onto me, wrapping her arms around my middle and resting her lovely head on my chest. "I love you, Sokka," she said, so sincerely I nearly died.
"I love you, too," I managed to murmur into her hair, wrapping my clumsy, awkward arms around her slim shoulders.
It seemed she had read my mind. But she didn't scoff, or laugh, or point a finger in my direction and label me a freak. Katara had simply smiled joyfully and returned all of my meager affections tenfold. I offered her everything I had to give in my tattered heart, and she treasured them like a poor widow treasures her last gold pieces.
And standing there, under the watchful gaze of Yue, I thought of something.
We were drifting, still. Drifting together again. And it didn't bother me in the slightest.
