Author Note: So I've been obsessing over writing one-shot stories lately, and I've been asking my friends for ideas. So, yesterday my best friend Krystal (aka Toph) gave me this story idea, and so this is dedicated to her.
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. Simple as that.
Pain.
An unquenchable, unbearable amount of pain.
Katara cried out in pain, she breathed pain, she lived pain.
Though it was only a moment her hands where in the inferno, it felt like centuries.
Clutching her hands tightly against her chest, she tried to sooth the pain as she knelt down on the ground, trying not to cry.
She failed as tears fell faster then she thought possible.
Her skin burned, her body ached, and she couldn't escape it.
Katara retreated inside herself, closing her icy blue eyes; she tried to shut out the pain.
"Katara!"
She barely heard the voice.
It was a phantom, a ghost.
His voice was nothing.
Was it even real?
Was anything real anymore?
All she felt was fire.
Her hands felt on fire, and that was all that mattered.
A soft whisper of wind blew on her side, then the quiet crunch of his boots touching the ground beside her shaking body.
"I'm so sorry!" Katara thought she heard the voice pled, as if trying to comfort himself much less the one in pain.
Katara cried, trembling, rubbing her skin with her thumbs in a desperate attempt for relief.
But that made it worse.
So, so much worse.
And it made her cry harder.
"Katara, what's wrong?"
That voice she recognized, but still Katara didn't come out from her huddled position on the ground.
She felt his presence as he bent down, gently reaching into her cocoon and drawing her hands out, holding them in his.
He examined what brought his sister such grief, what brought his strong sister to such pain, what had only happened in a matter of seconds.
Katara drew in a chocked hiss of pain when his probing fingers touched and her sensitive skin sent thousands of aggrieved signals to her brain.
She heard him gasp lightly.
Katara pulled her hands back closer to herself, as if that would help her pain.
The voice beside her became angry and accusing. "What did you do!"
"I-It was an accident. I-I was, uh… K-Katara. I'm sorry…"
She saw the shadow of the boy; the one on the right, the one who did this to her; the one who she thought was her best friend: Aang, try to reach down.
But her brother, the one on the left, the one who cared; the one who protected: Sokka, tackled Aang to the ground with a grunt.
Years of warrior training in use.
Katara continued to shudder and quiver. Her tears began to stop, the throbbing began to cease, and she her brother's words cut through the hazy barrier in her mind.
"I told you shouldn't mess around with this! Look what you did!"
The fear, the rage, and his own hurt formed into four words: "You burned my sister!"
Katara heard enough. She had enough.
She stood shakily, tears still falling, arms crossed and hands held tightly against her sides.
"Katara!"
Katara heard the voice of her brother calling, but she had already began to run; still crying heavily, she ran down the side of the river, trying to get away, running from the pain, running from their words, running.
And yet she could still hear Sokka continuing his shouting.
"You burned my sister! This is all your fault!"
She didn't care who he was talking to, all she cared about what stopping the pain.
Katara fell to the ground, knees almost in the clear water.
It pushed and pulled, and she saw her reflection shimmer on the glassy surface.
Her eyes were red, her dark hair a mess, her outfit was rumpled, and her tan hands were the worse.
She cradled them in her lap, and a fit of sobs began again as she fell back on her heels.
The tears had long since stopped, but still her body wanted to cry.
Katara tried to catch her breath, but all that came out were ragged half gasps of air and her stomach began to ache from the force of her crying.
She pulled her hands out from her lap, and looked at them out in the open.
They were dark red, almost bleeding. Lines of burn marks curled around her fingers and palms like vines or snakes.
And the water was right there.
It was so peaceful, so calming, so inviting, so perfect.
The one solution to her wounds, the one solution to her pain.
With a final glance at her scarred hands, Katara pressed her hands into the shallow river water at her feet.
Then she regretted it.
Katara squeezed her eyes shut and she grinded her teeth in an attempt to stop a cry of alarm from escaping her throat.
Her hands burned, almost as if they were caught in Aang's uncontrolled fires once again.
Water was supposed to bring life, supposed to bring joy and healing, but all it brought Katara, the water bender, was more hurt.
She wanted to cry again but no tears came, for in the very next second, there was no pain.
Katara snapped her eyes open in surprise and stared down at the gleaming and shifting facade of the river.
A calm glowing, pure white, surrounded her hands. The burn marks shining slightly brighter from the rest of the skin.
She pulled her hands free of the river, staring in awestruck wonder as the water dripped off her skin, revealing her hands.
They were whole, uncorrupted, and perfect once again. No evidence of the pain remained.
A miracle took place, Katara the water bender became a healer.
And while she examined her hands, no burns or scars, Katara began to wonder…
Perhaps she was stronger than she thought.
