Thank you all so much for the support. This is the final act. I hope you enjoy.

Characters and universe are not mine. No infringement intended to the creators or any other authors.

Part III: Break

It ended in a field with an old man on his knees. With her resolve failing, and the ice turning to rain, and her walking away, unable to finish what she started. With him standing beside her, watching without words, his presence a silent testament to his promise of friendship.

With her suddenly realizing he understood her far better than she'd ever given him credit for.

When they reached the beach, she turned and faced him, shaking all over with repressed emotion, and said, "That wasn't what it was supposed to be like."

"I know," he said, "It's ok."

Her hands clenched into fists. " It's not ok," she said, "He wasn't supposed to be weak!"

"People who kill innocent people are never strong."

"So why couldn't I do it?" She leaned towards him, grabbing the black fabric of his shirt. "I couldn't kill him. I didn't even want to. He was weak! He was old, and empty, and weak." The tears came unbidden as she pressed her face into his chest.

His voice smoothed past her ear as warm hands encircled her back. "It's ok," he whispered.

"But it's not. I failed."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"You didn't fail, Katara."

"Then what would you call it?"

She looked up at him, accusing and angry.

He looked back, unflinching.

"You did not fail," he said, "Take it from someone whose failed enough times to know what it looks like."

The firmness in his tone made her drop her eyes again, and her fingers slowly unwound themselves from his shirt. He let her step away.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it."

"But you didn't deserve that."

"I said don't worry about it. Are you ready to go?"

Katara looked out over the ocean.

"Yes," she said, "But I don't want to go back. I...I'm not ready to talk to anyone. I'm not ready to explain."

"I'll take you wherever you want," he said without hesitation.

She glanced over, and was surprised when a slight flush stained his cheeks.

"That is...if you want to me to," he added, "If you don't, I'll just... I know somewhere safe I can drop you off while I go get the others."

Katara wiped her eyes. "No," she said, "I don't want to be alone."

"Are you sure? You said you weren't ready to talk."

She offered him a watery smile.

"I didn't mean to you."

For a long moment, Zuko just stared at her, eyes alive with emotions she couldn't put a name to. All traces of his usual stoicism were gone, leaving behind a vulnerability that, up until now, his words and actions had only hinted at.

Unnerved, Katara cleared her throat.

"So I guess since you know where we're going, you should drive, huh?"

Zuko blinked. "What?"

"Since you know our destination, I think you should drive."

"Oh." Zuko looked up at the empty space between Appa's horns. "I guess so. Is there...uh...anything I should know about controlling a ten-ton flying bison?"

"Just don't pull the reins too hard," Katara said, "Appa has sensitive horns."

"Sensitive horns. Right." Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. "Well ok then." He walked toward Appa's head. Katara watched him climb up and settle himself cross-legged in the soft fur before climbing up herself and arranging herself in the saddle. Appa snorted.

Zuko took up the reins.

"Um...now what?" he asked, and he sounded so at loss, Katara couldn't help but giggle.

"Now you say, 'yip yip," she told him.

"Yip Yip?" Zuko questioned.

Appa lurched beneath them. Zuko wobbled, but managed to right himself as Appa began a steady ascent into the sky.

Katara smiled and closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the feel of the wind on her skin.

...

Hours later, they touched down on the sand in front of what looked to be a building of some sort, though it was hard to tell in the failing light. Katara followed him up a long flight of steps and watched as he brushed aside the cobwebs that covered the splintered door.

"Here we are," he said.

She looked down the hallway from over his shoulder.

"What happened to the door?" she asked.

Zuko made a sound that could have been a laugh. "Long story," he said, "Come on."

They stepped over the boards and moved down a long corridor, eventually emerging in an open courtyard.

"My uncle once told me that one of the most underrated military strategies was hiding in plain sight," he said, walking toward the center of the space, "So here we are. Hiding in plain sight."

"I don't understand," Katara said.

"This is my family's beach house," he explained, "We haven't used it in years. My father, as you can see, likes to ignore it."

"Wait...you took me to your father's house?" Katara put her hands on her hips and eyed the older boy in front of her. "This was your great idea?"

"I thought you might want to be comfortable. Not sleep on the hard ground after the day you've had. My mother's bedroom...faces the ocean. I'm sure we could find some clean sheets for the bed."

Sadness laced his words. Katara dropped her arms and walked over.

"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, "I was only teasing. This is a really great idea. And I'd love to spend the night in a bed."

Zuko nodded, but didn't look at her. "I'll go fix it up for you then."

"I'll help you."

"No!"

She drew back.

Zuko brushed his hair off his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to yell. But you are my guest. It's only right I prepare your room for you."

"Zuko, it's no big deal. I make my own bed all the time..."

"I know." He looked down at the ground beneath his feet. "But this is my mother's bed. Not yours."

The meaning of his words hit Katara full force in the chest.

"Oh," she whispered.

"You've had your chance to make your peace today, let me have a few minutes to make mine."

Without looking at her, he began walking back towards the house. Katara watched him go until his figure disappeared amongst the shadows of the darkened building.

She gave him until the moon rose before she went to find him.

...

He was sitting on the floor next to the bed, chin on his knees, fingers locked around a gauzy piece of red fabric.

"Hi," she said. "I thought maybe you might need some help after all."

Zuko didn't move. She sat down next to him.

"She loves you," she said, "I'm sure that wherever she is, she's thinking about you. I know this never should have happened to either of us. But if this war has taught us anything, it's that love is strong. Love is powerful and we can't let ourselves be overcome by despair when we have love."

He continued to stare straight ahead.

She reached out and touched his arm.

He flinched.

She didn't let go.

He sighed.

"Did it help?" he asked, "Facing down the man who did it?"

"Some. Not as much as I had hoped."

"Do you think it would help me?"

"I don't know."

His titled his head, eyes meeting hers. "Do you think I should try?"

Katara felt something strange and inexplicable uncoil inside her. She shivered.

"No," she said, "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I couldn't stand it if he hurt you again."

Zuko's head came fully up. Katara bit her lip, watching the emotions play across his face. For a long time, he remained silent, just looking at her. Then, he stood.

"I should finish up here," he said, "I can tell you're tired and I've taken way too long already."

"It's all right," Katara said, pushing herself to her feet, "Although if you let me help, it will go faster."

Zuko hesitated, then handed her one corner of the sheet. "Make sure to tuck the corners in tightly or the silk will slip."

Katara nodded and together they spread the red sheets across the bed, smoothing the creased edges into place and folding back the top where it met the pillows.

"There," he said when they finished, "Your bed is ready."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

He turned to leave.

On impulse, Katara grabbed his sleeve.

Zuko looked back.

"I...I just wanted to say that I'm glad it was you today. With me. You...you're a really good friend, and I should never have wasted all that time being mad at you."

Zuko shrugged. "It's all right. You had your reasons."

"I know. But...you did all this for me. And all I ever did for you was make your life more difficult."

Zuko regarded her with a neutral expression as he removed his sleeve from her grasp.

"It's late," he said, "I should go."

"Right," Katara sighed, "Of course."

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, and moved toward the door. But before stepping into the darkened hallway, he paused again.

"Hey Katara?"

"Yes?"

He looked at her, a faint but happy smile gracing his lips.

"It was worth it," he said, "Everything you put me through...it was worth it to have today."

Then, with a little bow, he stepped backwards out of the room.

Stunned, Katara could only stand there, staring after him as his footfalls faded away.

Outside, the ocean's waves crashed against the rocky shore.

Inside, Katara dug her fingers into the edge of the matress and felt something inside her break.