Aang loved storms.

Certainly, once he had been afraid of them – after all, a storm had been the reason he had been frozen in an iceberg for a hundred years. But it had been five years since them, and he'd learned to grow beyond his fear, had learned to appreciate their beauty.

It was a combination of all the elements, really – the rain, revitalizing water that soaked into his skin and washed away all his inhibitions (the few he had in the first place, that is); the earth, as it rumbled with the force of the storm, rolling and shuddering gently, moving with the irregular rhythms of the thunder. The lightning was fire – fierce and deadly, yes, but also beautiful, and something with which Aang had made his peace long ago.

And, of course, the wind.

The wind was his favorite part – he didn't need his glider during a storm; he could simply leap into the air and let the gales carry him where they wished; somersaulting and spinning through the sky, laughing out loud and glorying in the feeling of freedom.

He and Katara had been staying with Zuko in the fire nation for the past few weeks – there was a large field in front of the cottage where they were living, and open spaces were best for airbending. At the moment, Katara stood in the doorway, still under cover, watching him with a strange sort of forced half-smile on her face.

"I love storms!" he cried exultantly, cartwheeling towards her through the air and landing lightly beside her.

The smile faded from her face completely. "I hate them," she said softly.

With an abrupt, unexpected change in the direction of the wind, Aang somersaulted backwards in the air before landing again, and coming to stand beside her. This time he stood his ground, calling back his earthbending training and making himself solid as a rock. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "Why?"

Instead of answering, she moved her hand up under his shirt behind his back and rested her fingers gently on the old scar, left there years ago by Azula's lightning bolt. Aang was rarely cold, but chills erupted up his body at her touch.

"Lightning," she whispered. It was all she needed to say.

"I'm not afraid of it anymore, you know," he promised her, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders as well, adjusting their position just slightly – she leaned into him, resting her head against his neck. "I'm safe from it now." He thought back to that battle, five years ago – remembered the devastating power of the lightning, remembered catching it with his fingers and directing it through his body, remembered that one instant at which he held it at his fingertips – remembered the time when he had learned to harness its power, so that it wouldn't hurt him again.

"Zuko wasn't."

He pulled away and faced her, taking her hands in his and meeting her eyes. Hers were bluer than usual, glistening. She looked down at their interlaced hands and then back up at him. "He couldn't completely redirect Azula's lightning, and he's a firebender. If he wasn't safe . . ." Her voice, barely above a whisper, trailed off briefly before her next words. "Maybe next time you wouldn't be, either."

"Katara . . ." He looked deeper into her eyes, so blue, so wide. He had to tell her that he wasn't afraid anymore, had to help her let go of her own fear. "There's always the chance that we won't be safe. There's no way we can ever know. But you have to trust me, Katara. You have to believe I'll be okay." He squeezed her hands, felt her grip tighten to match his. "You have to believe I'll always come back to you."

"Aang, I" – She froze, her mouth still open as though she wanted to say something else, but after a moment she sighed and closed it again. A tear began to make its way down her cheek; Aang wanted to wipe it away for her, but she held his hand tighter, keeping him from moving.

"Katara," he said earnestly. "Come with me."

He leaned forward, keeping his eyes locked on hers, and kissed her lightly on the lips. The kiss was brief, but it was enough to loosen her grip on his hands; he pulled one free and turned, tugging her by the other out into the storm.

"Here." He stopped her in the middle of the field. Her hair was loose and wet; drops of water streaked down her face, but still, she was the most beautiful girl – the most beautiful woman – he had ever seen in his life. "Climb on my back."

When her legs were safely hitched around his waist and her arms locked tightly around his shoulders, he bent his knees and leaped straight up into the air.

She was tense against him at first, her muscles tight and clenched, letting out an audible gasp when the first wind caught them and they flipped backwards through the air. But Aang could feel the winds; could sense the connections between the gales and the breezes; knew exactly how to control them if necessary. "Katara!" he cried above the rumble of thunder. "You have to trust me! I promise I won't let you fall!"

A crack of lightning split the sky; so loud that they both flinched. But right afterwards, as soon as the shock had faded, he felt her breath against his neck and heard her whisper, directly into his ear, "I know."

He felt a grin break out across his face, feeling her arms relax against his shoulders and letting himself laugh out loud with exhilaration as the wind swept them higher.

Don't own Avatar. No other explanation needed.