A/N: Yay for more oneshots when I should be finishing my multichapter. Oh well. Hope you like this and please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender or any of the characters

Katara ran through the jumbled streets, dodging past piles of garbage and turning around sharp corners, arms thrown out to keep her balance. She tore through the deserted alleyways, dust billowing behind her. She couldn't hear the clanking of armor behind her, only the sound of her heavy breathing and her feet slapping against the cobbled stone under her shoes.

Katara jerked to a halt in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. The whole thing looked ready to fall in on itself, but Katara didn't hesitate to jam her shoulder into the half-broken door and shove it open. She stumbled into the gritty place and stood still, her chest heaving with every dusty breath she took.

When she still couldn't hear for any sounds of pursuit, Katara shoved the wilted wooden door back into its frame and looked around the place she had chosen as her home for the night. There were pieces of furniture overturned on the floor, lying on their side and backs, like a child had thrown them in the midst of a tantrum. Dust swirled through the air, the motes spinning and dancing in the white light of the moon. There were holes in the curved ceiling, starlight shining down to join the moonlight.

Katara paced around the wide room, her footsteps leaving a disjointed trail on the dirty ground. She dug her heels into her eyes, trying to hold back tears. Her adrenaline had ebbed away, leaving only worry and fear behind, choking her breath and blurring her eyes.

Katara sighed, dragging her hands through her grungy hair, brushing back the sweaty strands that stuck to her face. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to stop the flow of tears down her cheeks.

Katara dropped down to her haunches and held her head and in her hands. This whole situation was her fault. If she hadn't insisted they go into the market, she wouldn't be in this dirty warehouse and she wouldn't be separated from her friends and brother.

She should have known they would have been recognized with all of the wanted posters hung around the city. She should have known that the vegetable merchant would have sent for the soldiers and that she and her friends would have been separated and isolated.

And now she was alone, not knowing where Sokka or Aang or Toph were, if they were hiding like she was or if they were captured, if they were even alive. The Fire Nation was huge. Even if she got out of the warehouse, she wouldn't have any way to find her companions. The only way she would hear anything was if one of them was captured, when it would surely be broadcasted to the world.

"What are you doing here?"

Katara jumped to her feet with a yelp, spinning around to face the raspy voice that had spoken so suddenly from behind. She stared, wide eyed, at the scarred boy in front of her. For a long moment she was quiet, her tongue frozen at the onslaught of thoughts running through her mind.

The last time she had seen this boy, this prince, was at Ba Sing Se, less than two months ago. He looked much the same, with piercing golden eyes and a dark red scar over one eye. His hair was longer, the dark ebony locks falling into his eyes and framing his face.

He seemed to glow in the moonlight, his pale skin shining and contrasting with his dark hair and highlighting his scar.

"Shouldn't I ask you the same thing, Your Majesty?" Katara shot at him, her leaden tongue becoming useful again.

Zuko scowled, his eyes darkening. "This is my country, waterbender. Not yours. You can answer first."

"No, I don't think I will. It's none of your business." Katara took a step back, her fingers trailing down her hip to touch her flask. She wondered if she could get it open before Zuko noticed; probably not, but it was worth a try.

"Then my being here is none of yours." He stepped forward with her, and glanced at her flask. "Please don't. I'm in no mood to fight."

Katara glared at the boy in front of her. He crossed his arms and met her glare with his own. They stood in silence for a long moment, before Katara huffed. "Well, you can get out now."

Zuko raised his single eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

"This is my warehouse. Go find your own."

"I was here first," Zuko told her simply.

"I don't care. I need it more than you do." That much was true. If the soldiers were still out there, Katara would be in trouble. Zuko didn't have to hide from the men he ruled.

"You don't even know why I'm here."

"Fine. I'll leave," Katara growled, stalking away from him. She didn't want to deal with his arrogant, princely, attitude in the middle of her crisis. The soldiers following her were probably far away by now. She would go find another hideout, maybe one with less grit and dust, to spend the night in.

Katara shoved the decrepit door out of her way and breathed in the clean night air. She had barely taken two steps before a rough hand yanked her back. Her yell was choked back by the calloused hand against her mouth.

She was about to place a well-aimed elbow in the gut of the prince when a sudden clanking in front of her made her freeze. She stared as two soldiers jogged past the alleyway entrance, instinctively shrinking back into Zuko's chest. Their masked faces glanced into the mouth of the narrow opening, their steps slowing marginally, but they did not stop.

Zuko waited until the sounds of the marching soldiers faded to loosen his grip on Katara's jaw, but he didn't let go. Katara squirmed in his grip, trying to work her mouth out of his palm. She was just preparing to bite down on his flesh when he released her.

Katara spun around and glared at him. She wanted to yell and be mad, but she knew she couldn't. If he hadn't pulled her back she wouldn't have noticed the soldiers until they had captured her. She crossed her arms under her breasts and chewed on her lip. She sighed, swallowing her pride. "Thank you," she muttered, looking at her feet, hating the fact that she owned Zuko her freedom. She didn't want to owe him anything, not after what he did under Ba Sing Se.

She glanced up and saw him watching her strangely. Suddenly she wondered why he hadn't let her get captured. He was the crown prince. Didn't he want her to be in the hands of the Fire Nation?

"Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"Do what?" he asked, eyes focused over her shoulder.

"Hold me back. Why did you do it?"

Zuko swallowed, looking uncomfortable. He crossed his arms, drawing her attention and Katara was suddenly aware of how Zuko was dressed. She would assume he dressed like most nobles in the Fire Nation; in fine silks and red robes adorned with gold thread. But he was dressed in close fitting black clothes, covering him from ankle to neck. He had a black bag slung across his chest, and was currently shoving it behind his back with one arm.

Katara narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning.

"None of your business," he growled threateningly. He stepped backward, pressing the bag against his back. Katara might have been afraid when he used that tone, if he hadn't looked so nervous.

Katara made an inarticulate sound of frustration. She turned on her heel, her shoes dislodging loose pebbles in the ground. "Whatever."

Katara stalked forward, warily poking her head around the corner to check for more Fire Nation soldiers. When she saw the deserted street, Katara walked out into the night, checking the buildings around her, hoping to find one that might have caught the attention of her brother or her friends.

"Where are you going?" the same deep and raspy voice hissed behind her, grated in her ear. Katara jumped; she hadn't even known he was following her.

"Why do you care?" Katara shot over her shoulder, speeding her steps away from him.

"I don't," he muttered.

"Then why did you ask?" Katara sighed, ducking into an empty building. This one was in the same state as the warehouse, dirt covering the floor and furniture thrown randomly over the floor. She ignored Zuko ghosting footsteps behind her.

Katara clenched her hands into fists, trying to swallow her anger. She couldn't stop thinking about it.

Katara heard Zuko shove the door closed and she whirled to face him. He stood with his back to her, his broad shoulders tense and his head bowed. He still had one hand on the handle of the door, like he was ready to escape.

"Why are you following me?" Katara demanded, trying to keep her voice level. Shouting might attract the soldiers. Katara might have welcomed it, in the angry and vulnerable state she was in; she was itching to fight someone.

Zuko turned slowly, not meeting her gaze. He murmured something under his breath.

"What?" Katara asked sharply.

Zuko took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself for something unpleasant. Katara narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms under her breasts and shifting her weight.

Zuko amber eyes flicked up to meet hers, only for a second before they settled back on his feet. "I'm sorry."

Katara blinked and stared at him. She was silent, nonplussed. Katara watched him bend his head, his chin dropping to his chest and his ebony hair obscuring his eyes so that Katara could not read his expression. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry," he sighed.

"Sorry for what?"

Zuko scuffed his foot on the gritty floor. "For what…happened in Ba Sing Se. "

"Are you referring to you betraying your uncle to join your insane sister who near- who killed Aang?" Katara silently cursed herself; Zuko probably didn't know Aang hadn't died. He hadn't been there to see Katara heal him from the brink of death. If she had let it slip that Aang was still out there, Zuko would probably grab her and use her as bait to lure him to the capital for capture.

Zuko swallowed audibly and pressed a hand to his eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry for all of that. It was a…mistake."

Katara laughed completely without humor, the sound harsh and caustic. "A mistake, was it? That's it? It was mistake that you indirectly caused the death of a 13 year old boy?"

Zuko visibly flinched at her words. Then, slowly, he knelt down at her feet, head down and hands flat against the ground. Katara watched, gaping. She stared at him, unable to fully comprehend what he was doing. This proud prince was kneeling at her, the waterbending peasant's, feet.

She stepped closer, the tip of her toes practically touching his fingers. "Explain."

Zuko took a deep breath and leaned back on his haunches, head still bent, still not looking at Katara. "I – I was confused. I didn't know what to do when Azula talked to me. She made me believe that if I went with her, that if I fought the Avatar – if I fought you – my father would accept me again. That he would care. And he did. He restored my title and my birthright. My life is back to normal, or at least as normal as possible. But, I'm – I'm not happy. I thought I would be, if I came home. But I'm not. All I can think about is my uncle in prison and how the Avatar is dead, all because of me. And I just – I don't know what to do."

Katara looked down at him. "You were confused," she said flatly.

Zuko shook his head. "I'm not explaining this right. But I'm sorry. I really am. I wish – I wish I could take it all back." He looked back at her, his eyes pleading for her to trust him, to believe.

"So do I."

Zuko bit his lip and Katara felt a stab of almost pity. He looked…actually upset about this. It wasn't a trick; Zuko wasn't that good of an actor. She almost considered telling him that Aang wasn't dead, that he was currently in the Fire Nation, healthy as anyone could be with a hole in his back.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Katara asked him.

Zuko glanced up at her before looking down again. "What do you mean?"

"You said you aren't happy. So what are you going to do about it?"

"I had hoped apologizing would help," he muttered, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his chapped lips.

"Did it?"

"No."

Katara frowned thoughtfully. "Why are you so unhappy? What's so bad about being a prince?"

Zuko sighed but didn't answer. Katara hadn't expected him to. He was like that, one moment talkative, in his fumbling awkward way, the next, silent and brooding.

She knelt down, so that she was at eye-level with him, shifting her skirts over her knees. "So what are you going to do about it?" she asked again.

"I don't know," Zuko murmured, watching her with wary eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and rocked on his heels.

"What do you want to do?" Katara asked, before she could stop herself. She told herself she shouldn't care about what he wanted or how he felt. But his apology and his explanation felt so sincere, she couldn't help but feel bad for him, to want to help him. It was exactly how she had felt in Ba Sing Se. "You said you're unhappy, so do you just want to stay that way, or are you going to do something?

"I want to make things right," Zuko with sudden passion. "I want to change what I did."

"Why?" Katara murmured, picking at the cloth on her knees. She didn't want to believe him, to hope that he had changed. She had done that once already, and he had thrown her hesitant trust right back into her face.

Zuko looked away, through the broken window where the moon shone through. "Living in Ba Sing Se, I realized something. This war – I had thought it was for the good of the world. I was taught my whole life that everyone would benefit from Fire Nation rule. But, they don't. The world hates the Fire Nation."

"You just now realized that?" Katara scowled.

Zuko frowned, his hands rubbing his thighs. "It's wrong," he said, more to himself that her. "The balance of the world, it's wrong. One nation shouldn't rule the others. They should all be equal."

Zuko's head snapped up and he met her gaze. Katara was taken aback at the fierceness in his golden eyes. "I want the Fire Nation to be what it was. Before Sozin, before the war. I want it to be the nation it used to be, something to be proud of. I want to be proud to be Fire Nation."

Katara stared at him for long enough to make him drop his gaze back to the ground. Katara watched his fingers swirl around in the gritty dust, and she absently wondered if he was nervous, if that was why he couldn't keep his hands still. "When did you start thinking like this?" Katara murmured finally.

Zuko's yellow eyes met hers for a moment before he looked away. "A – a while ago."

"And you're just now doing something about it?"

Zuko frowned and was silent. Katara assumed that meant she hit a nerve. She sighed and crossed her arms under her breasts and nearly fell on her backside when a sudden clap of thunder resonated through the warehouse. Katara looked up at the hole-riddled ceiling. It wasn't raining, but there was thunder.

"It never rains here," Zuko muttered, as if reading Katara's mind.

Katara stood up and pushed a chair back onto its legs. It was dirty and the stuffing was falling out in places, but Katara didn't have any other options. She curled up on it, tucking her knees under her chin. She sat there, frowning at Zuko, who was watching her.

"Why did you tell me all of this?" Katara mumbled, picking at the chair's stuffing.

Zuko sucked in his bottom lip. "I don't know." He looked down at his hands, and Katara thought she understood. He told her, because he needed to say it to someone. It wasn't like he could talk to his father, or sister, about his thoughts of ending the war.

Katara pillowed her head on her arm and watched him. She should hate him, be mad at him, anything but feel like she should help. But she just couldn't look at him and be angry. She didn't know what happened to him – when did he become this quiet boy instead of the angry prince?

Thunder clapped again and wind whipped through the holes in the walls, swirling the dust high into the air. "What are you doing out here?" Katara tried again.

Zuko scowled. "Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because it's important."

Zuko sighed. "I'll tell you what I'm doing here if you tell me why you're out here."

Katara narrowed her eyes. "I was running from the soldiers. I thought that was obvious."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I figured that out. But why were they even following you?"

"I thought that would be obvious too. Unless you missed the wanted signs."

Two bright red spots appeared on Zuko's cheeks and he looked away. "I just wanted to get out of the palace," he muttered after a moment.

"Why?"

Zuko shrugged one shoulder, but once again, stayed silent. Another sore subject, apparently.

"Why, Zuko?" Katara insisted. Just because it was hard for him to say it didn't mean Katara wasn't going to make him. She doubted him, still, and she could only imagine why he was out of the palace in the middle of the night.

He sighed. "I just wanted to get away from Azula. And my father."

"Well I guess no one can blame you for that," Katara mumbled under her breath.

Zuko's lips twitched up into a half-smile and his warm amber eyes met Katara's bright blue ones.

Katara wanted to smile back, but instead, she glared and turned around in her chair, resigning herself to sleeping on it. She heard Zuko stand and then a chair being dragged across the floor. Katara peeked over her shoulder and saw him getting comfortable in his own chair. "Aren't you going back to the palace?" Katara asked.

"No."

"Oh…alright then," Katara mumbled, turning away, completely confused. Why would he choose sleeping in a ratty chair rather than on silk sheets.

It was cold in the warehouse. Wind whistled through the holes in the wall and ceiling and Katara shivered, wrapping her arms around her chest. She wished there was a fire going, or at the least, had a bedroll, but she had neither and her Fire Nation clothes left a lot of skin showing.

Her teeth chattered and Katara buried her face in her arms. She heard a rustle from Zuko and a low mutter, and then rough fabric was draped over her shoulders. Katara spun around and watched as Zuko walked away, shirtless. He dropped back into his chair, lying down with his bare back to her, clearly avoiding her eyes. Katara saw that the back of his neck was red.

She blinked and looked down at the tunic he had given her. Katara felt warm suddenly, and it had nothing to do with the tunic. She smiled, a small curve of her lips, and relaxed back into her chair, pulling the tunic around her chest.

Katara blinked and opened her eyes, squinting in the bright light that shined through the holey walls. She sat up and Zuko's tunic fell into her lap. She stared at it before moving her wide eyed gaze to him. Zuko was half lying in his too-small chair, half lying out of it. One hand was curled over his stomach and the other was behind his head.

He looked young, Katara decided. His face was free of the scowl or glare he usually wore, and the peaceful look on his face made him look younger than he actually was. Katara looked at him, taking in the muscles that made up his torso and arms. Small dark hairs curled over his stomach and up his chest, not too much, like the men of her Tribe, but enough to make him look masculine. Katara felt blood rush to her face when she realized how she was staring at him, staring in a way she definitely shouldn't be.

Zuko stretched suddenly, his back arching and his face crumpled into a yawn. He rubbed his face and looked over at Katara. He blinked and then that small half-smile lit his features again. "Nice hair," he said.

Katara's hand jerked to her hair and she glared at Zuko. "Shut up," she huffed, smoothing down her tangled waves, trying to push them into something decent.

Zuko smirked and Katara looked back down at her lap. Her whole body felt hot as stared at his tunic again. She picked it up and held it out to him, glancing at him sideways. "Uh…thanks," she muttered.

Zuko's cheeks turned bright red, the line of his scar blending in with the flush of blood. "Uh, yeah. It's…not a big deal," he mumbled, taking his shirt back and pulling it over his head.

Katara stood awkwardly. "Well, I'm going to go…and find my brother. Yeah, uh, see you…later? Hopefully when I'm not in a cell. Yeah, I'm leaving now."

Zuko watched as Katara walked past him, her hands nervously smoothing down her hair. She felt his hot stare on her back as she shoved the warehouse door open and walked back into the streets. She had only been walking a few minutes before a deep, husky voice stopped her.

"Katara, wait!"

Katara turned and saw Zuko run out of the warehouse. He jogged over to her and stood, running a hand through her hair. "What?"

He took a deep breath. "I lied before – I didn't just leave the palace to get away from my family for the night. I left – for, for good. I left to go find you and the Avatar."

Katara stiffened and Zuko hastened to speak again. "Not like that! I meant I wanted to find you so that I could, well, teach the Avatar firebending."

Katara stared at him, her mind going blank with surprise. He turned red again, and looked down. "You want to teach Aang firebending?"

"Unless he has someone else to do it, I'm kind of the last option. He's the only way to fix the world."

Katara blinked. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" Katara asked, crossing her arms under her breasts. Her eyes widened as she fully processed what he said. "Wait. How do you even know Aang's alive?"

"He was seen. I got the message from an outpost. My father doesn't know, so don't worry about that."

Katara cursed in her head, for her recklessness and Aang's. Katara tapped her foot on the ground, biting her bottom lip. "I don't trust you."

"I know." He looked sad as he said it, and Katara felt a rush of almost pity.

"But…you're right," she continued. "No one else can teach Aang. So I guess, we do need you. But it's Aang that will make the decision, not me."

Zuko's eyes widened in surprise and his lips parted in a ghost of a smile. Katara sighed, and turned around, heading back to the place where she had seen Aang and her brother last, mentally thinking of what she would have to say to them to keep them from attacking Zuko the second they laid eyes on him.

"Thank you, Katara," she heard Zuko murmur as he walked beside her through the crowded streets.