It had all happened so fast. Zuko almost questioned the reality of it, but seeing Katara on all fours, burying her head into the mud, he knew what he saw was real.

It was a fury of swift arm movements, her feet sliding over the mud stricken ground, and the rain that poured over them unforgivingly.

Zuko watched from beside the waterbender, a mix of amazement, anger, and nervousness fluttering through his chest. It was amazing to watch her, the way she domed the rain over them with a raise of her arms, and with another wave of them, she turned the rain into a wave of thick ice spears.

But it was after she had admitted to Yon Rha that it was she who was the last waterbender, that it was she who her mother died to protect, when she launched the icicles at the old withered man.

Zuko saw it. A half a second too late the reality of what she had done crashed over her, as her arms begged to pull the spears back, to stop them from slicing through the man. But her hesitation had caused her, and she'd been too late to stop the ice.

Yon Rha fell to the ground in a stiff heap.

So did Katara.

Zuko saw her; he saw her frozen in time, he saw her shake, he saw her fall.

And there was nothing he could do to stop her tears from shedding. He knew that even with his comfort, she would still grief; it was customary to those who'd taken a life unwillingly, caught in the brutal crossfire that was this war, that was any war.

Though this was not a battle in this onslaught Zuko's forefathers had unleashed onto the world a hundred years ago, it wasn't much different. It was the aftermath, the consequences of his nation's actions. It was what it did to people, what war took from the innocent, the kindhearted, the compassionate.

And, what it made of those people.

After what seemed like days of waiting in the bitter rain, Katara's shaking did not yield. Hesitantly, Zuko walked to Katara's side, kneeling down to her level. The tear had mixed with the rainwater, but Zuko could see her bloodshot eyes, her sniffling, her shattering shakes.

It tore him apart.

"I killed him," she cried to the mud. "I killed him, and...and I didn't mean to, honestly. I...what is wrong with me, Zuko? I killed a man! A vile excuse for a man, but he was still a person. And I killed him…"

Zuko just sat there, unsure of what to say, whether she wanted him to actually respond or she was simply spilling her heart out onto him.

It wasn't until she turned to face the firebender that Zuko found it in him to open his lips.

"I know, Katara. I saw you try to...to stop the icicles. But he wasn't a man, or at least I wouldn't call him a man. He took your mother from you, and nothing would ever-"

His voice was cut short when she pulled into a full embrace, him wheezing slightly.

His breath was cut short when she landed a hard kiss onto his lips..

When he did not pull back, she only pushed harder, her kisses long and desperate, wet with the rain yet still firm and demanding.

Panting slightly, the girl pulled back, but did not meet Zuko's eyes.

"Make me forget," she muttered, crinkling her eyes up, "Make me forget everything Zuko, please."

When he didn't respond, she returned to kissing him, pushing him over slightly as she climbed on top of him. Her lips were plump on his, her teeth biting, her tongue probing.

It wasn't until Katara tried to untie his sash that he'd cut off his moans of pleasure and remembered the situation he was in.

As much as he loved the girl's kisses, he didn't want her to do something she'd regret, for her to make hasty decisions in the heat of her agony.

The firebender pulled back from Katara, but she only tugged him harder.

"Zuko..Z-Zuko please. I need this. Please."

Zuko sighed. He wanted to comfort this girl, he really did. He wanted to end her tears and see her smile light up the dreary night. But neither of these things came. And she knew it wasn't his pleasure that he needed, only his time.

"Karata, please...look at me," he murmured, his voice husky against the bare of her neck. She stilled, but eventually she pulled away, her tear stricken eyes pouring into his.

"I...I don't think this is what you need right now, I think-"

"Who are you to decide what is best for me and what isn't?" she shrieked, her cracking voice piercing through the billowing rain that washed over them. He saw her sobbing, her shaking. She was falling apart. And he was doing the same.

"Katara, I...I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"I killed him! I fucking murdered him in cold blood, how can you sit here with me? I'm a monster, and I...I…"

But Zuko didn't let her finish. He pulled her unwinding body into a firm embrace, one hand clutching her soaked hair as he nestled her sobbing eyes into his shoulder.

Zuko did not speak after that. He let her cry, rocking her slightly as she did so. It wasn't that he didn't know what to say to aid her, but somehow, he knew this is what she needed.

Zuko had always seen crying as a sign of weakness, and he avoided it at all costs. But now, as he clung to the shaking waterbender, he knew that he was wrong. Katara cried because she was strong, because she could feel, could understand.

And, as he sat there, mud soaking through his boats in that little middle-of-nowhere Fire Nation village, he hoped that one day he too could be as strong as Katara.