Howdy! There have been a lot of hits on this story, but only two people reviewing, aaww – I'm not one of those people who holds a chapter hostage until she receives a certain number of reviews, because that's goddamn stupid, but everyone knows that inside us all is a starving review-demon. Feed me.

Also, to clear up the timeline (or lack of), I am disregarding the 'exact' events and order of the series, and instead choosing to set my own vague one. Currently, we're several comfortable months from the comet – say, four or so – and they've done the whole swamp thing. They don't go see the Rumble tournament, and instead Aang knows that the girl from his magic swampy vision is blind, and an earthbender who waits and listens. The hunt is on!

3 to all!

When she woke up, she was mildly surprised to find Sokka and Aang crowding around her, and even Momo was happy enough to drop a few of his hard-earned berries into her lap.

She sat up groggily; throat sporting that nasty burning feeling it gets when it has had seawater in it. She swallowed painfully a few times before testing out her bending by summoning her. Sokka and Aang watched quietly while she took a few swigs, and Aang smiled for the first time in several hours when she started tracing her hands around her torso, searching for any signs of water left in her lungs.

"I got it all," he said proudly, and she smiled at him, making his heart beat just that little bit faster. "There was a lot in there..."

His voice betrayed how worried he'd been; sickened by his helplessness as she'd lay slumped in the saddle, motionless. Katara felt a pang of guilt at making him worry, and then she remembered what had caused the whole thing in the first place.

"The sh-" she attempted, and she was slightly surprised to find that her voice didn't make a sound. It was as though she was just breathing out, and she had to cough and clear her throat and try oddly hard before her voice came back at all. It was just a little squeak at first, but she opened it all once she got that little bit working. "What about the ship?"

Sokka, relieved to have her back in the land of the living without any signs of dying soon, slung an arm around her shoulders and turned her to face behind them; pointing out to sea. The ship was a clearly defined shape behind them and she could even make out – with a pang of fear – figures moving around on the deck.

"It's closer!" she said abruptly, scrambling to the back of Appa's saddle. "So much closer! How long was I out?"

"Not too long," said Aang cheerfully, with a big grin. He felt so relieved that he laughed as though nothing had happened. "But they sped up when they caught sight of us, since we stopped."

"Sorry," she muttered guiltily, eyes tracing the red shape before her. "I was doing well though! How many fish do we have?"

"Six good big ones, and like ten little ones," said Sokka proudly, "but they're gonna go bad Katara, I meant to say, we need you to... er... well, I mean, if you're... um..."

"I can still freeze a fish," she said dryly, crawling over to the dead fish and wrinkling her nose.

"Aang, take us down closer so Katara doesn't have to pull it from so far awa-" started Sokka, but Katara made a noise of irritation.

"Sokka!" she reprimanded. "I drowned, yes, but that doesn't mean I can't freeze some fish with water from fifty metres below us!"

Apparently realising how odd this sounded, she pouted. "Well, it doesn't."

Aang just grinned once again, happy she had returned to her usual stance of 'don't you dare try to help me if I don't need it', craning his neck to watch her.

She leaned over the side with the ease of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, and reached her arms downwards, clawing her fingers in effort. Two thick streams of water shlooped themselves upwards, spiralling towards her.

Once the water reached Appa, Katara froze the fish with little effort – at least, she pretended that it didn't take any effort. Aang, glancing back over at the oncoming vessel, floated back to the steering position and took Appa higher.

"We've got a bit of work to do to lose them!" he said cheerfully to the bison, who grumbled in response. "Yeah, I know… it's YOU who does the work."

"And don't we love ya for it," grinned Sokka lazily as he flopped down onto his back in the saddle. "Wake me up when we get there!"

"Where?"

"Wherever we're going."

OOOOOO

It wasn't often that Zuko would firebend quite so… 'recreationally', if you will. He was leaning against the ship's railing, absently staring in the direction they were heading, while tossing a small shot of fire between his hands. It soothed his nerves (if you could really call them that) to absently play with his element, though he would never have done it if he wasn't alone.

The Avatar was constantly elusive to him. He knew that the boy had essentially mastered water, and supposed that he must be searching for an earthbending teacher. It was odd, then, that the group was continuously moving around. Wouldn't it make more sense to stay put and find a master?

The only explanation, of course, was that he was taking small periods of tutelage with many teachers. The group was refusing to stay in place for too long, lest Zuko (or anyone else) catch them, so they travelled and increased Aang's knowledge more slowly. Certainly a clever way to go about it, thought Zuko. The slower progress is certainly worth the added security of not setting down in one place for too long. Clearly, he was dealing with tricky, savvy teenagers. He needed to get himself into gear before the Avatar mastered earth! Every day that passed, every capture attempt that failed, every botched mission; all saw the Avatar getting closer and closer to mastery of the elements!

Of course, Zuko didn't know that he was completely wrong in this assumption and that in fact they were aimlessly searching for a blind chick Aang had hallucinated about, and he had no grasp of earth at all… but whatever.

Anyway, the group would have to stop for supplies sooner or later, as they did periodically. Sometimes Zuko would get there in time to make an attempt to catch them – which invariably failed. This time, he thought, maybe it would be better to follow and wait until one of the other two wandered off alone. It must happen sometimes, he reasoned with himself. Zuko could wait until one of them wandered off alone before trying to abduct them. And, of course, the Avatar was so damn good that he would pursue them and try to help. Or, maybe, he should just take them out so that the Avatar was without backup, as well as being devastated and trying to help his friends.

Hm. That would make capturing him far easier, yet Zuko's immediate thought no, I'm not going to do that.

Catching the flame in one hand and firing it away from himself, Zuko turned and stomped towards the galley. Food sounded good, and he was annoying himself. Increasingly of late he had found himself dismissing strategies and ploys and tactics for the same reason he had spoken up in the War Room all those years ago.

I'm not a bad enough person.

He was in no confusion – he wasn't frustrated, trying to 'figure out' why he felt certain ways about certain things. He knew exactly why he reacted the way he did to different levels of… atrocity. He wasn't a bad (enough, he mentally affirmed,) person.

It was, truly, a certain irony that in order to capture the Avatar and restore his honour – honour lost by speaking up against the unspeakable – he was probably going to have to commit acts that he found to be deplorable as well. The Avatar was just proving too tricky to capture without employing some shady tactics, like hostaging or even murder.

This knowledge wasn't particularly upsetting. What really got him angry, was that he didn't know what choice he had in the matter. What alternative was there? Living in banishment forever? His father had left him gone for years. Had Ozai simply been trying to prove a point, or teach a lesson, he would have resummoned his son by now. Obviously, that wasn't going to happen, so Zuko's only condition of return was to fulfil his father's request and capture the Avatar.

I don't deserve this, was Zuko's last, pissed off thought as he descended the stairs. With the full intent of banishing his thoughts and enjoying some food, he opened the galley doors and walked in. Taking a seat and waiting for some food – smelled like spice-roasted fish tonight – Zuko found there was an uncomfortable phrase stubbornly floating around his head.

I'm not a bad person….