Title: Come to Me
Author: Jakia
Word Count: 1673
Pairings: Zutara, though there is some Jetara later on
Chapters: 2/7
Summary: Come find me when you've figured it. When you finally realize that you hate your father, that you hate this war, and death, and blood. I will forgive you. But first, realize that you need to be forgiven
…Maybe I'm thinking too broadly. Maybe I'm not giving you enough credit—you are stubborn, my Prince, but all people learn in time. Maybe you'll come to me in a week, a month, a year, the same broken boy you've always been, with a sword in your hand and blood on your face and fire in your eyes. You'll stare at me from across the field where we both stand, as sunset, with you at the end with a falling sun and me at the side of the rising moon. You'll look at me as if I'm a stranger, a friend, a lover to you. And when the sun finally sets you'll finally allow yourself to fall to the ground, almost dead and ready to die.
The sun was setting in the west, and he would die when it set.
He was tired. So very tired. And so ready to die. It pained him to think that; he was, of course, so young, and he had done so little in his life. But he was so tired…and what was it that the Blue Dragon had told him so long ago in his dream? That's right—sleep.
He was ready to sleep. Forever. He would fall to the ground soon, and he would sleep and never wake up.
Never wake up.
Oh Spirits, he was going to die. What had he accomplished in his life, however short it was? Nothing—he had done nothing. He was a failure. Just like father always thought.
Why had he sided with Azula? He should've known she would stab him, quite literally, in the back sooner or later. Maybe he did know she would kill him, and he sided with her anyway.
Oh Spirits, it hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt to die, just like it had hurt to live. Dying was hurting him worse than anything had ever hurt him before, even his scar.
He wanted…comfort. A pillow. His mother. Uncle. That blue-eyed girl. Something to make it stop hurting.
Mostly, he wanted to not be alone. He hated being alone. He might've been a loner most of his life, but now that he was dying he wanted someone, anyone, to be there. Why couldn't the spirits grant him that one wish? Don't let me die alone!
Then he saw her in the distance.
It was her. She. Whatever her name had been. She had offered to heal him once, and then he sided with Azula and became her enemy again. Standing with her back facing the moon, she watched him carefully, suspiciously, with a look of horror played along her face.
Thank the gods she was here. Now he wouldn't die alone. She would be here.
He must've looked horrible to her. Pale faced, bloody from head to toe, and unnaturally thin and ready to die. She was horrified to see him; scared, too, though mostly distraught. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head: What is he doing here? Oh Spirits, what happened? What am I suppose to do…?
He blinked back tears.
"I'm sorry." He croaked out, his voice shaky and hoarse. He would apologize. "I'm so sorry."
He fell to the ground as the last of the sunlight left the western sky.
"Stop healing him, Katara. Have you forgotten who he is? He's Zuko, our enemy. He betrayed you, remember? Stop healing him—he doesn't deserve to live."
"Shut the hell up, Sokka."
Warmth. Water. Dark hands. Where was he?
"Even Dad says you should let him die. 'Keep no prisoners,' remember? Besides, if he wakes up he'll know where our hideout is and our whole plan will be worthless!"
"…"
"Didn't think about that, did you? Spirits, Katara, you never think! He'll fucking lead his father's godforsaken army right to our doorstep and kill us all!"
It was so nice here. Was this heaven?
"Shut up, Sokka. Get out of here."
"Not until you stop. He doesn't deserve to live. He's a monster, the Fire Lord's son…"
"I said get the hell out of here, Sokka. Now."
Funny. He would've thought heaven was quieter.
"--Fine. But if that bastard does so much as breathe wrong, I'm killing him in his sleep."
"You'll do no such thing. Get out."
Weak. So tired. Why was he so tired? Yet it was so warm, so very warm.
Soft hands. Soft, brown hands, on his face. "Don't listen to my brother. You're safe, Prince Zuko."
He woke up slowly, deliriously. Her hands felt good against his skin. So soft. Like silk. And water. Nice water, not like the wild water she had before. This water is calm, cool.
Beautiful.
He faded in and out of consciousness several times, but each time he woke up there were brown hands caressing his face and blue eyes staring at him in worry.
He wanted to speak to her, but he could not find his voice. A thousand and one questions raced through his mind, but he could not find the strength to ask them.
Why am I here?
Why did you heal me?
You should've let me die.
Thank the Spirits you didn't let me die.
Your hands are soft.
I'm sorry I wronged you in the past.
Hours later, maybe even days, he had no way of knowing how long he was in this state of in between, he finally found his voice buried somewhere deep in his throat.
"What's your name?" He slurred tiredly, his voice jumbling like he had rocks in his mouth.
She smiled down at him, brushing a stray dark hair out of his face. "Katara." She said softly,
"Katara." He whispered back, the name sounding strangely sweet on his tongue. "Katara."
He slept for a long time after that.
I'll catch you, my Prince. And I won't let you die. And when you wake up, you can tell me of every petty mortal sin you've ever done, of every wrong that's ever been done against you, because for some strange reason you've never had a problem opening your heart to me. Maybe it's because you know I'm listening.
It took a while, but he finally begun to heal. And as he healed, he began to talk. About everything, nothing—he couldn't help himself. He's was so happy to be alive that he felt he had to take advantage of it, and in the process, told the Watergirl (Katara) more about himself than he's ever told anyone, not even Uncle.
"My father was the one who gave me this scar."
"I'm sorry you're mother was killed by the Fire Nation; mine was too, if that means anything to you."
"You have really pretty eyes, you know."
The best part was, she listened when he spoke. She didn't always respond, but he knew she was listening. He could tell by the way her eyes lit up and the amused chuckle she let out when he told her about the time he beat Azula at Pai Shu.
"Uncle's favorite tea was ginseng."
"I never wanted to hurt you or your friends. I just wanted to go home."
"I met a guy named Jet on the way to Bai Sing Sei. He wanted me to join his gang, the Freedom Fighters. I almost wish I had."
"The Avatar doesn't know how lucky he is to have you."
"I don't know how to thank you for what you've done."
He thought he might eventually run out of things to talk about, but he didn't.
And sometimes, when she thought he was asleep, she would talk back to him.
"You terrified me when I first saw you."
"You aren't the horrible monster I once thought you were, but I'm still not sure what to think about you."
"Sokka wants to kill you, but I won't let him. I don't know why."
"Aang hasn't woken up since Bai Sing Sei. We will die if he doesn't wake up soon. The comet is in less than a month."
"I wish you'd realize your father is a bastard who doesn't deserve your love."
In some ways, a lot of ways, he hoped he would never get better, because that would mean he never had to leave.
He woke up one day because he felt her tears falling from her face down to his.
"I wish I didn't have to say goodbye." She whispered, watching over him like she always did.
He closed his eyes and went back to sleep, pretending (praying) that he hadn't heard what she said.
When he woke up again, he felt as though he was waking up for the last time. It was the first time in (Days? Months? Years?) that he hadn't woken up to soft hands and blue eyes, and he didn't like it. He was back where he was before, back at the place where he almost died, where Katara found him.
Azula stood over him now.
"I come back expecting to find a half-eaten corpse," She said darkly, crossing her arms. "Instead, I find you taking a nap."
She kicked him hard in the gut. He moaned, growled a few obscene words at her, and stood up, facing her eye to eye.
Azula huffed. "You are stronger than you look."
He still doesn't know if she meant that as a compliment or an insult.
"Come on. Father wants us back home as soon as possible." Then she turned and left, possibly hoping Zuko wouldn't follow.
He rubbed his eyes carefully. Had it all been a dream? No—it couldn't have been. It felt too real.
And yet—he looked around him carefully—where was she? Where was Katara?
"Are you coming or not, Zuzu? Because I think the vulture-bees might eat you whether you're dead or alive."
He scanned his surroundings carefully one last time; when he could find no trace of Katara, no evidence that she had been there at all, he followed his sister towards the setting sun.
END
A/N: Enjoy.
