In which Katara needs to be taken care of sometimes
She called for her mother in her sleep whenever she is in a deep fever (something that she is embarrassed to admit sometimes… in light of the years of travel and the life changing field trip with the not then Firelord that put her anger over her loss away for good). But losing strength in her limbs, her sense of control of her waterbending, body shivering relentlessly in the middle of summer in a desert town, her confidence equally diminished as she huddled against the bedsheets, teeth chattering as her bones ached.
A hand gently touched her brow, followed by a wet cloth pressed against her heated skin, easing her discomfort somewhat. He would make her sit up and drink the herbal tea that stayed by her bedside, always warm. And at night after the sheets were changed, she dimly heard a soft song drifting quietly in the room, about tales of a mother skybison chasing the tail of her mischievous black calf for running off with the eastern star, calming her nerves and making her sleepy.
Safe and comforted just like that time when her own mother was alive her body reacted to it as well, curling at her side comfortably in bed and holding his hand with her own as she dozed, wanting him to be there by her side when she wakes up in the morning.
And he always did.