a/n: Disclaimer, yada yada yada... You should be warned that this is very, very angsty. And sad. But happy. But sad. So, it's bittersweet. VERY bittersweet. And it's long. Read with caution...
.
.
.
It's just a game. They're just kids. And she's just a girl. But there's nothing simple about it.
There's a little too much gray, and a little too less of black or white. Then again, it's war. And nothing is as acquiescent as war.
People get hurt, things get taken, and nothing seems to be the better for it. Just destruction and pain and desperation. It's a world of hell when war comes marching on. And not many survive.
But she works and smiles and protects, promising the others a future of hope. And they listen to her reassuring speeches and comforting whispers, trusting in her complacent outlook, while all along, she knows that if death should come, she would be powerless to its snatching claws. It's only a facade, really, but she also knows that things don't always have to be the truth for people to put their faith in it.
So every day, in and out, she watches with the eyes of a soldier, and loves with the heart of a mother.
She knows she can be overbearing, that she can wear on everyone's nerves. She knows her constant nagging and catering can drive any of them up the wall, but what they don't know is that the only way for her to not go insane is if she distracts herself.
"Katara?"
"Hmm?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." His voice is just a whisper, and she has to stop herself from telling him that she wasn't really asleep anyways. "I had a bad dream."
She sits up, flips open her sleeping bag, and holds out an arm, which he readily plops into. His head of dark hair rests on her shoulder. "You wanna talk about it?"
The Duke fiddles with her hair which tumbles messily around her neck. The childish bravado is gone from his voice now, and he talks softly as to not awaken the others around the fire. "I dreamt that the air temple was on fire. A-And then it just fell right off the cliff with all of us in it. And it wasn't just us. But I saw my mom and my dad, y'know, how they were before they died, and there was Longshot, and Beetlepie, and Jet, and Smellerbee too. We all just went falling, and everything was on fire, and I didn't know what to do."
She catches herself from flinching at the name of the Freedom Fighter leader. Just another person she knew when she was younger and stupider. Just another person she failed to protect. Instead, she strokes his hair comfortingly and wraps the blanket tighter.
"It's okay, The Duke. That won't happen cause we've got really strong earthbenders like Toph and Haru who'll make sure the temple won't fall."
His big brown eyes blink up at her. "You promise?"
She smiles even though it's a lie. "I promise." She'll have time to regret that three days later when Azula finds them and starts exploding through the walls.
"Katara?" He yawns and lets go of her hair, shoulders drooping with exhaustion.
"Yeah?" She leans a cheek against the crown of his head.
"Do you think you and Jet would've gotten married?" Her hand doesn't miss a beat and keeps running fingers soothingly through his hair. She's silent for a long time, staring into the dying fire, trying to find the answer to a question that's really only a distortion of childish innocence. Even though she knows the little boy has fallen asleep, she still feels the need to answer.
"I don't know."
It's the trivial things. The things that everyone overlooks that really makes the difference.
The way she laughs at Sokka's jokes (even when they aren't funny) and encourages his sarcasm by bantering back so he won't lose his joy.
The way she listens with attentive ears to Suki's stories of the Kyoshi Warriors (even when she could be doing more important things) so that the older girl won't miss home too much or feel too upset for leaving them behind.
The way she spends time with Toph every week to write letters to her parents (even if there isn't any way to send them) so she doesn't feel neglected and forgotten.
The way she saves a spot for Aang to sit next to her at dinnertime and lets him hold her hand when they're around the campfire (even if the guilt is eating her alive) so he has a reason to smile.
The way she stargazes with Zuko all night long when everyone else is asleep (even if there's still a trace of that habitual jolt of distrust deep in her heart) so he won't feel alone.
It's the way she refuses to let anyone see the broken child hiding behind tan dimples and pearly teeth. The way she lets them think her eyes shine bright blue from hope, when it's really the fear that's slowly taking over. The way she soothes them from nightmares when she lives one every day. In the way she absolutely won't let any of them lose their innocence, or whatever's left of it, even if it's at the cost of her own. The way she will do anything to give them as much of a childhood as possible before it's too late. The way she never really did have a childhood.
It's the trivial things. And yet, maybe the little details are what matter the most.
She's been told she acts like a mother. Not just once, but many times. By multiple people.
She remembers when she was around ten, two years after her father left the tribe, and Sokka, who was twelve at the time, had refused to eat his sea prunes and cucumber broccolis and had hidden them in the snow. So when she had found them, she'd naturally gotten upset that he was not receiving his proper nutrients and had chewed him out. It was the first of many times that Gran Gran had laughed heartily and told her that she was just like her mother. Her little ten year old self took great pride in this, of course.
She remembers when they had just begun traveling with Aang, and how she did ordinary things to keep herself from feeling homesick or bored. She would patch up their clothes, wash Momo, sharpen Sokka's boomerang, cook whatever food they could find, and make sure each of them took regular baths, no matter where they were. It was after several days of this that Aang had gazed at her admiringly and said that one day she would make a great mother. A feeling of warmth and excitement had filled her heart, and his compliment had made her day.
She remembers the time they had first met Toph, and how ridiculously frustrating it was just to live in the same premises as her. The two girls went aggressively head to head at the most miniscule of things, like chores, or attitude, or even where she put her stuff when they rode Appa. It all boiled down to the point that Toph had stood her ground, pointed a dirty finger in her face, and yelled that if she kept acting like a mom, that no one would ever see her as anything but a nag. Suddenly, being called a mother at such a young age seemed to be more of an embarrassment than something to be proud of.
It was little things like this that happened along the way. And gradually, the more it happened, the more she started to just accept it. All of the orphans, the runaways, the lonely ones that they had adopted into their group, she treated like her children. It was her identity, her purpose.
She remembers once, when she and Sokka had a blow out. Aang wasn't there. He was out training with Toph or something like that. They were yelling over something stupid, something she can't even recall anymore, and things had gotten heated. Old hurts and wounds were being uncovered, feelings that were meant to stay hidden suddenly surfaced. It was ugly and it was mean. They were mean. Both of them said things that probably shouldn't have been said, but in a way, it began a kind of healing process. It was the day she was forced to realize the actuality of things. She had said something especially rude, and so Sokka had bitten back by saying, "Stop it! Stop trying to replace mom! You'll never replace her, you can't replace her, you can't bring her back, and nothing you'll ever do or say will change that! You're not mom!"
Her mouth opened and closed, the tears she had been holding back since the yelling match started began to blur her vision. "I...didn't mean..."
Sokka deflated, all the fight draining out of him. He wished he could snatch those words right back, wished he could lock them away forever. "Katara..."
She hung her head. "I know. I know I can't bring her back. And I'm sorry for trying to take her place. I just-I..." He was hugging her in an instant, making soft shushing noises in a vain attempt to make her stop. She bit her lip to keep from sobbing, but her shoulders shook violently, and his arms tightened around her.
"It's okay, Katara. Maybe you aren't mom, but you're doing a damn good job of taking care of us for her." She took in a shaky breath, trying not to hiccup.
"I miss her a lot." She whispered as if it were some dark secret. "For a long time I thought it had gone away, but it still hurts so much."
He squeezed her, hiding his face in her hair. Besides, warriors weren't supposed to cry. "Yeah. I know."
They just stood there for awhile, both crying a grief they had kept at bay for years. And when they were standing there, she realized something. All this time, she had been trying to become the mother of these children. She had wanted so badly for them to look up to her and to recognize her strength, her responsibility.
But now she saw that a mother isn't a mother for what she does. She's made a mother from how she loves. Unconditionally. Whole-heartedly. Openly.
Maybe all these broken children, all these lost souls, just needed someone to tell them they loved them to find their way back home.
"I love you, Sokka."
"I love you too, Katara."
She bottles everything inside. Nobody can ever see the blackness of despair she holds deep within her. In her eyes, everyone else has it worse than her, and if she lets herself break, then what's to stop the destruction of all of them?
To be selfish; what she would give to be selfish. To run away and not look back. To take back the little pieces of her soul she's given out and turn a blind eye. But she can't, because her conscience would kill her if she ever did.
When she had begun this journey, she had been a wide eyed, optimistic fool, believing that this was just an adventure. And for a while, she lived in that fantasy world of flying bisons, and brothers that are annoying, small cuts that are easily healed, the fame of the world, and the guarantee that good always prevails. She saw everything at face value, relishing in the temporary atmosphere of ignorance.
Then all too soon, she began to see the seriousness of the reality set before her. Now she lives in the dark world of chaos, and brothers that could disappear forever, wounds that bleed out, the blame of the people, and the sudden knowledge that nothing is ever guaranteed. Now, she knows that face value is only an illusion. Nothing is ever simple anymore.
But she keeps it to herself, this crushing hopelessness. When the others are worried, she tells them lies, if only to help them sleep at night. Nobody ever notices her seemingly insomniac behavior.
It's better this way, that only one would suffer for the good of all.
She slips her feet ankle deep into the cool pond water, watching the ripples part away from her skin. There is no wind tonight, so she remains in her white wrappings that have become her usual sleeping attire. That is, if she ever did sleep.
Her legs widen into the familiar bending stance, arms poised at her sides. She is far enough away from the campsite that nobody will hear her and Toph wouldn't feel the vibrations. The water lifts at her command, fluently twisting and swirling into the air.
She closes her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The stream bobs up and down with each breath, moving in a mesmorizing ebb and flow. The half-moon relfects brightly off of it's surface, causing the specks of sand and dirt caught within its watery grasp to glimmer faintly. The night is silent and calm.
Electrifying blue snaps open, and her tranquil body comes to life. Suddenly, the stream is not the only water being manipulated by her skilled fingers. She moves sharply and unpredictably, most of the pond following her every motion. Anything her eyes catch on- that boulder, the tree, a bush -gets cut down almost immediately.
Ice daggers fly through the air, impaling themselves dead center into a mound of dirt fifty feet away. A wave of water runs across the field, slicing off the tips of hundreds of grass blades. Her hands raise a column of ice, shoving forward, and exploding into a boulder with enough force to tumble it across the clearing.
Her body flips and twists, delivering deadly blows to imaginary enemies. Each well placed kick and punch is proof of the many nights she has spent training herself.
Her whole being has been invested into the anger that has been welling up for years.
Two water whips for the painted girl who suffered in prison.
Three kicks for the blind girl who isn't really blind.
Four ice disks for the boy who refused to fight.
Five daggers for the boy with the world on his shoulders.
Six ice punches for the siblings left alone.
Seven slices for the families torn apart.
Eight stinging tentacles for every child who grew up too fast.
One tsunami for the all the people she won't, and will never be able to save.
She's glad she's alone, so that there is no one there to try and guess whether the drops streaming down her face are water, or tears.
Damn her heart. Damn it and its inability to listen to her head.
She can tell in the new way Toph has started to tease her, in the way Suki gives her a knowing look, in the way Aang always looks suspicious, in the way Sokka keeps glaring at Zuko. The way she's beginning to hate herself.
She's starting to fall. Hard.
But she almost just can't help herself. She tries to dismiss his warm attitude towards her as just his way of displaying friendship. She wants to ignore his decidedly male physique during training sessions and the way it makes her cheeks stain red. She refuses to let her thoughts delve too deep into the 'what ifs' of the future. And when she catches him staring at her from across the fire when the gang is relaxing at night, she tries to convince herself that he looks at everyone like that.
Yet, to no avail. Every action, every word, and every look that flies between them sparks something she wishes would stay dead.
Her head is screaming at her heart, warning it of the dangers this could be. No. She can't let herself get sucked into this. Not now. Especially not now. The world is nearing its breaking point, and she has much better things to worry about than whether or not this crush is just a result of hormones.
And she blocks herself off. Won't let herself feel. Because after a while, you start to realize how explicitly hard it is to feel. How terribly painful it is to love.
What's the point of growing attachments when in the end, it won't matter?
She hugs her knees to her chest, watching the blue water stretch over countless grains of sand. The sun dips halfway into the ocean as if seeking relaxation in its cool waves. Her mind itself swims in thoughts of last night's play, and how terrible it really was.
"You hungry?"
She startles and looks up to see Zuko holding out a slice of papaya from the Island market, his other hand grasping a half eaten one. Of course he would pick the one fruit she absolutely hated. But then again, this is Zuko, and that's just his luck.
"Yeah, thanks." She quirks her lips into a smile and takes the fruit, even if all she wants to really do is chuck it into the water. He grins crookedly back and sits down next to her.
"So." His voice is deep and gruff, and she has to convince herself that it's just pre-day jitters that are causing such an uproar in her stomach.
"So. That was some play, huh?" She feels him tense a little beside her, and she takes her chance to pull the moisture out of the papaya and bury the crumpled husk in the sand while he's distracted. He leans back on his hands which are planted behind him, and sighs.
"Yeah. You could say that." He hangs his head backwards and his Adam's apple bobs slightly when he swallows. She has to look away or she's sure she would keep staring. "Agni, that was so screwed up."
A tiny, but genuine laugh bubbles up. "Had to admit, though, there were some entertaining parts to it."
He smiles a sorta bitter smile. "Like my death? I mean, c'mon, when I die, my last words definitely aren't going to be 'honoooooor!'" He imitates the way his actor dramatically screeched the cheesy last lines, and chuckles drily. But she can't bring herself to laugh with him, or even grin. She was never good at faking things when it was only him and her.
All of a sudden, she's struck with the sudden reality that this could be it. These last couple days could be all they have left. And it scares her, terrifies her, even.
"Or..." Her voice is a little hoarse, and her eyes are distant as they stare at the sand between her feet. "Or Ba Sing Se." She laughs humorlessly. "They got that part all wrong too."
She's afraid to look at him, afraid to see him agree. But then, she doesn't know why she would want him to agree in the first place, because that's how she wanted things, right? Platonic? Her head starts to pound from the clashing riling between her thoughts and her feelings.
When she finally does get the courage to look at him, he's just sitting there, frozen. His eyes are trained straight ahead, but she gets the feeling that it's not from admiration of the ocean. Seconds tick by, and then, he slowly turns to look at her, eyes piercing. And when he answers, he neither agrees, or disagrees as she expected.
"Did they?"
Her breath catches in her throat, and she just knows that he wants this as much as she does. And she knows that he knows the consequences, the pain, and the emotional strain that would come with it.
In that moment, she realizes that he's giving her a choice. He's letting her choose, because whatever her decision is, he will support it one hundred percent. Because he knows that whatever her answer is, pain will come with it anyways, just different kinds of pain. But is it worth it?
She wonders to herself why this is so hard. Why must their lives be so tangled. And she both hates and loves him for letting her choose.
The sun has sunken deep below the ocean's surface, the sky now a deep hue of purple, a mix of red and blue; the color of sorrow.
Her heart constricts as she leans over and kisses his cheek oh so lightly. His eyes close, already knowing her answer. She fights back the tears, and before she pulls away, she whispers into his ear.
"I hope not."
She knows it. She knows it in her heart, doesn't allow it to go unacknowledged.
Someone is going to die tomorrow.
Then again, at least one of them is going to die tomorrow. What else are you to expect when engaging an entire army as well as the viciously merciless Fire Nation royals- excluding Zuko -with just a handful of kids and a small society of old men? It's unavoidable.
She thinks Sokka, Suki, and Zuko know it too, considering how they can't seem to look at one another whenever the subject of war is brought up. She knows that Aang and Toph aren't as naive as one would believe, but she also knows that they, as in the older kids, have been feeding enough positive thoughts into their minds that their thoughts of death would be to a minimum. She likes it better that way.
Her last prayer before she attempts to get some rest that night is that if anyone were to die, it would be her.
She loves each and every one of them too much to see any of them die. And she's invested so much of her heart into them, she's not sure she has enough to live for herself if any of them left.
She can tell already that her compassion will be the end of her.
They were delayed. At least two hundred men must've been there guarding the palace, guarding the princess. And even though there were only a few firebenders, the comet empowered them enough to burn one of Appa's feet and send him to the ground. There wasn't any other choice than to fight them off. What seemed like years passed before she got desperate enough to commit an act she had forbidden from herself.
Her dirty, dirty finger rose up, manipulating and forcing. She bloodbent up to ten men at a time, pinching off veins and putting them to sleep. She hadn't killed one of them, but it didn't help her conscience. By the time they had gone through them all, both she and Zuko were worn out.
"This isn't a good idea, Zuko." She panted as they sprinted towards the courtyard doors. "You're running on barely half your energy, and she's still fully rested. Including the fact that she has the comet at her will. Don't do this."
He flashes her a wry grin, even as he's nearly heaving. "Come on, don't you have any faith in me?" Then the seriousness returned to his face. "I'm not running from her again."
Everything told her not to let him follow through, but she knew nothing would stop him now. She could only pray that Aang was winning his own battle at the moment.
The next thing she knew, Azula was standing before them, a crown on her head, Zuko had challenged her, and she was forced to sit and watch from the sidelines. Blue and red flared everywhere, and the heat was so intense, she was sure she'd started sweating through her clothes. They weren't holding anything back, and somewhere deep in her heart, she knew there was no way this could end well.
It went on forever, and her eyes followed their forms, watching the powerful movements that looked so much like a dance. The longer it continued, the more she felt the buildup of tension. One of them had to fall, because there can only be one winner of an Agni Kai. Another part of her was writhing around, making her fidget and twitch. That part was the side where every possible worst case scenario of Aang's duel with Ozai was flitting through her head.
Nothing was going right, and she couldn't do anything about it.
The siblings skidded opposite of each other, heads whipping up to clash gold with gold. Sweat was dripping from his temple, reflecting the flames burning all around them.
"Daddy will be so pleased to see you with your lovely water tribe bitch!" Azula cackled insanely, and Katara knew instantly something had finally snapped. The princess sent three massive fireballs straight at her brother, who batted them easily to the side.
His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and steam exited his nostrils. "Don't call her that."
His sister grinned maliciously. "What? Is this love that I see, dear brother?" A jet of blue flames exploded from her fist as she finished her question, and Katara watched Zuko split it into two with one single motion. His fists were clenched, body suddenly taut. Katara herself was too tense to even recall that this conversation was about her.
"This is a battle between you and me alone, Azula." He growled, finally releasing his own wave of fire to rage towards her. "Leave her out of this."
The crazy princess kicked at the flames, canceling them out. She landed less than ten feet from Katara.
A nasty smile marred her porcelain face. And it was like the old, calculating, unpredictable Azula appeared for a split second when her eyes flashed, and Katara felt a chill run down her spine. "That's precisely what I plan not to do."
Before either of them could figure out what her words meant, a shout from above caught the attention of all three of them. Katara made out the shape of a glider cutting rapidly through the air towards them, and her heart swelled. He was okay and alive. That meant he must've found a way to defeat O-
A light burst in her peripheral vision, and she shifted her focus to Azula who had found her perfect opening. Fear pulsated in her veins as she recognized the familiar stance. Zuko must have seen it too, since his body seemed to loosen and he reached one arm out in preparation for something- Katara didn't know what. And then the princess' fingers stabbed outwards, but it wasn't in the direction she'd thought it would go.
"Aang!"
"No!"
Time seemed to slow down. Katara's body reacted. The lightning was just parting from Azula's fingers, and her feet were carrying her across the short distance between them. She jumped, reached a hand out, and watched as her own tan fingers clasped around the princess'.
Right in between the split second it took for the lightning to be exchanged into her and the pain to hit, Katara's life flashed before her eyes. Every past mistake, every good memory, every life regret, every moment made, every laugh shared, every trip in the sky, every 'I love you' she'd ever spoken, every hug she'd recieved, every lie she'd told, every lie she'd heard, every truth she'd said, every person she'd met, every friend she'd made, everything. Nothing forgotten.
She realized what a full life she'd lived.
And then she was flying backwards, landing hard against the floor and tumbling for what seemed like forever. She couldn't control her body. Jolts of energy were wracking her body, and blackness swarmed her sight. The only sound she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. After ages, the aftershocks faded, and they left behind the weak and broken body of a girl once strong.
She wondered if she was dead yet, but that couldn't be right because she could hear and see what was going on around her. There was Aang, and she thought he was in the Avatar State, but everything was so blurry, she couldn't be sure. And there was Sokka, Toph, and Suki running over to her- huh, when did they get here? They look scared. She doesn't want them to be scared.
And suddenly warm hands are on her cheeks, and her eyes find the face of someone familiar. She should know who this is... It's on the tip of her tongue...
"Katara! Katara!" That voice is Zuko's. Muffled, but definitely Zuko. Oh yeah. That's who it was. Zuko. "Stay with me, c'mon."
"Zu-" Her mouth feels like someone stuffed Momo's tail down her throat.
"Shh- stop talking, don't talk." She's never heard him sound like this before. She couldn't be that bad, right? "You're going to be okay- Agni, this is all my fault -stay with me, okay?"
She tries again to say his name, but her body's still finding it hard to obey her. Her eyes focus a little more, and she can make out the expression in his eyes. They're terrified. And he's crying. She feels a little guilty for making him look like that.
Her ears are clearer now, and she notices that the sounds of battle have silenced. She sees Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Suki now. Her brother is crying too, and he's clutching one of her hands, she thinks, but she can't really feel anything at the moment so it's only a speculation. Everyone else is crowded around her, but for some reason, her eyes keep gravitating to the boy who is speaking into her ear.
"I'm so sorry, Katara..." His voice is cracking. "Dammit, I swear, if you leave us, I'm going to kill you."
"Zuko." Huh. She guesses her voice is back. She blinks and smiles shakily. Her throat is dry when she speaks. "I'm not going anywhere."
He shakes his head and bites his lip, too choked up to say anything. So Aang does for him. "Why'd you have to do that, Katara? Why?! You're not invincible!"
"Be-cause." Her voice is wavering, pain pulsating everywhere. "I told you a long time ago. We're family, and that's wha-what family does. We have each others backs."
"You're so, so stupid. You know that?" Sokka is sobbing, she can tell, and he's gritting his teeth hard enough to break skin. "...so stupid..."
She can feel the tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sokka."
She knows this is it. There aren't any healers, and it's only by a miracle that she's not dead already, so she better make this one count. Her heart is literally shattering in her chest. She can feel it. An emotional pain that is so much worse than any lightning could ever inflict.
"Don't leave me... We need you, so just don't...go..." She wishes she could do exactly as Toph says, but it's impossible.
"I love you guys so much." Her voice threatens to break, but she pushes forward because she needs to say this. They have to know this. "Every single one of you. I love you. You guys are my fam-" She stutters, a sudden wave of pain tearing through her. "My family. I just, I love you so, so incredibly much." This is too hard. She can't do this. "This hurts so much. I don't-"
"Stop it. Don't say goodbye." Zuko whispers brokenly, and she's reminded of every time she should've kissed him, but didn't. "Please. Please don't..."
"I love you, Zuko." And she thinks that everyone gets that this time, she means a different kind of love. He knows it too, because suddenly he's actually kissing her, and she wishes they could do this forever. But they can't, and he pulls away, knowing he can't be too greedy because surely she has more things to say.
But maybe she doesn't, because everything's getting a little bit darker, and a little bit softer, and she can't determine what's reality anymore. So she just says it over and over again, like a last mantra, a final declaration. As her last act of rebellion, she refuses to say goodbye. But instead-
"I love you, I love you, I love you all-" She can't see them anymore.
"I love you, I love you, guys-" She can't hear herself talk anymore, so she just hopes her lips are still moving.
"I love you, I love you, I love you so much-" She's floating into nothing, but forever on, she'll keep repeating, because she knows that they'll listen.
I love you.
It's just a game. They're just kids. And she's just a girl.
But they're a little less broken than they were before.
In the end, she was the string that tied them all together.