This has to be the most clichéd Zutara ficlet ever conceived, but I was listening to the song and felt inspiration. I know, its bad. Forgive a lovesick author who idolizes stupid love songs like this.
What Hurts The Most
Post-"The Crossroads of Destiny"
Rating T (PG-13)
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away.
Aang had slept for the last five hours. The Earth King dozed off somewhere around four hours ago against the already sleeping Bosco.
Sokka slept soundly for the last three hours, and even Toph, who could hardly sit still on Appa while soaring through the air, lay sleeping. Her small, pale hands clutched onto Sokka's arm, a point that Katara took with interest.
They flew parallel to the horizon, to the south. The sun was far from rising, the dark purple hue painted thickly on the canvas that was the sky.
Katara could not sleep. In the last day, her life, and even the fate of the world had changed hands too many times to count.
Aang had come so close to dying. The Oasis water, finally, found a recipient with a noble enough cause for its healing powers.
To think, she had almost wanted to use it before…
The Earth Kingdom had fallen. Ba Sing Se belonged to the Fire Lord.
Belonged to Azula.
Belonged to Zuko.
That's the real reason she could not sleep. That's the real reason she sat on Appa's head, watching the world pass below them.
However noble it might have been to be preoccupied with the sacking of Ba Sing Se, the loss of the Earth Kingdom, and Aang's health, the one thing that raced through Katara's mind was a pair of golden eyes.
A pair of downcast golden eyes and a pale face, a scar and a mess of dark brown hair. A boy who did not recoil or flinch as her fingers brushed over the red skin 'gracing' the left side of his face.
The skin was dry, rough, and fragile. It encompassed everything that Katara thought Zuko was, this boy who had kidnapped her, fought with her, was imprisoned with her.
She was so close, so, so close. His breath was hot on her fingertips, and she dared to brush her thumb across his lips, and even those were warm, warmer than she had anticipated.
In that instant, it felt as if she was touching a flame itself, a dangerous game that made her all the more curious. She began to want, something she had not done for a very, very long time.
And maybe, in that instant before the walls crashed in on them, Zuko stopped being a Firebender and started being a boy.
He was, in fact, wanted by the Fire Nation for treason. If the enemy of the enemy was my friend, where does that put Zuko?
It put Zuko back on the pedestal he was born on. Back next to his sister, back with the Fire Nation.
He told her he was the same; he told her they took his mother away too. All the malice and hate she had originally felt for him crashed to the floor, he looked so sad, so alone.
Katara always had an overly pious personality. Hate was such a strong word.
Hating took too much energy.
It was said that there was a certain place in hell reserved for traitors, for double crossers. That two-timers were said to be the worst of all sinners, even murderers.
Prince Zuko had betrayed the Fire Nation, he had betrayed his father, his sister. He had betrayed Admiral Zhao.
Refugee Zuko betrayed the Earth Kingdom, he had betrayed his uncle, his new home. He had betrayed Katara.
Katara hated Zuko because she felt for him, compassion that made her heart ache inside her chest.
Katara hated Zuko because he chose Azula's side.
Katara hated Zuko because he contributed in Aang's near fatal injuries.
But in her mind what mattered most was that Katara hated Zuko. He made her hate him. He made her spend all this time and energy despising him for betraying her.
Then why did her chest ache?
An empty hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. That weight hurt more than any of the singes on her skin from his fire or Azula's lightning.
Deep down, Katara prayed for Zuko.
Prayed that he wouldn't be in that inner circle of hell when he went to the Spirit world.
Prayed that he would find his way back to his Uncle.
And prayed that he wouldn't hurt her again.
Because the rope burn on her wrists from when he kidnapped her went away in three days. The burns from the North Pole healed. Even the singes from only hours earlier didn't sting as much.
But the heavy feeling in her chest hurt more than anything else.
Because she opened her heart to him.
Katara is a healer. She could bring a seemingly dead boy back to life. She can heal bruises and cuts and scrapes. Even scars.
But a broken heart, Katara knows, as the tears begin to slide down her face…
This is what hurts the most.
END
"What Hurts The Most"- Rascal Flatts
Arcadiana
January 16, 2007
