A:TLA does not belong to me, yaddayaddawadda. This was my entry for Rashaka's LJ contest with the prompt, "I don't really know you at all, came the whisper. "But I feel as if I do."

Midnight Rescue

"I don't really know you at all," came the whisper. "But I feel as if I do."

Her confession was met by stony silence, and for a moment Katara thought he hadn't heard. Then the frightening face turned to her again and he said lowly, "Forget it. Stay focused. We need to get out of here."

"Oh. Right," she muttered. "Focused."

"Shh!"

The heavy footsteps of Azula's guards tromped by the shrubbery in which the two were hidden. Katara breathed out a sigh of relief and started to stand up. A sudden yank from her rescuer dropped her back on her rear and a warm hand clapped over her mouth to keep her from crying out in surprise and pain. "Not yet," he breathed into her ear.

A final pair of red booted feet came silently into view. Katara marveled at how he had even heard. She traced the boots up, trying to see to whom they belonged. A sullen looking girl with an odd hairstyle stood before them. Katara recognized her as the one who had thrown the knives and darts at her in Omashu.

As if she had felt Katara's gaze, the girl turned and glared directly at their hiding spot. Her right hand flexed wickedly, and Katara shuddered at the thought of the many barbed points piercing her soft flesh.

Beside her, Katara could feel his sinewy muscles tense up. He gripped his two broadswords tightly, ready to attack. "Easy," he breathed into her ear.

"Mai!" There was no mistaking the Fire Princess's haughty tone, even from a distance. "Come here."

The girl, Mai, took one last look at the shadows of the bushes, her disdainful gaze lingering. Then she glided away, as silently as she had come.

Katara felt him relax a little. "Let's go," he hissed.

They slunk into the dark forest, hearts pounding in tandem every step of the way. Too soon however, Katara stumbled and fell – she had held out as long as she could, but the combination of brutal torture and soporific drugs had left her weak. She lay on the leaf-strewn ground, the world seeming to spin above her.

The blue and white mask, with its horrible empty eyes and leering mouth, suddenly filled her vision. "Get up."

"I'm sorry. I-I just can't…I mean, just give me a second."

He towered over her, silent, and for a moment she feared he would leave her. Then he bent and slid his arms under her legs, under her neck, cradling her. He picked her up with ease and began to move again. Surprisingly, she felt perfectly comfortable to be nestled up against his hard chest. She was safe; she could rest. The soft tugs of the drugs became an insistent pull, and finally she let herself be taken into the fuzzy realm of sleep.

When Katara awoke, she was back in her sleeping bag at the campsite. A blanket cushioned her head and her various wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes just as a dirty and dejected Sokka stumbled out of the forest, spotted her, and came dashing over to give her a bone-crushing embrace, Aang not far behind.

As she gasped for air under the boys' hugs, she couldn't help but think of the strong arms that had been wrapped protectively around her hours earlier.

I don't really know you at all, but that doesn't make me any less grateful.