A/N: So this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but that's because it got SUPER LONG and I had to cut it. Which means the next update will be quicker. :D Check out the bottom author's note for a new fic announcement! Enjoy!

Chapter 6 - The Descent

Wordlessly, Zuko bends down and scoops me into his arms. I reach my right arm around his neck and clutch the front of his uniform with my left as he starts to run back to the facility.

"What," I choke out, "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know," says Zuko, sounding as confused as I feel. "We just need to get back."

We aren't far to begin with, and with the prince's speed, it's not long before we reach the factory. Two Equalists are stationed outside the entrance when we arrive. Their gazes are skyward and even though their masked, I know they must be as stunned as we are.

"Open the gate," orders Zuko.

Hesitating, one of the Equalists turns to look at him. "The Warden—"

"Open the gate," Zuko repeats, colder this time. "Speak to no one and remain as you were. I will inform the Warden and she will decide on the next course of action."

I don't know if they recognize his voice, or if his authoritative tone is enough persuasion, but without another word, the Equalist's punch forward to open the gate. Zuko ducks under, and he's sprinting again. I bounce lightly in his arms as we pass confused Equalists and enter the cold chambers. He stops for nothing and no one. I think I can try to walk, but I'm so warm pressed against his chest that I decide to close my eyes instead and hang on.

I must doze off because what feels like seconds later I'm jolted awake when Zuko barges through the door to Command. It's nearly empty. Only Shai is here, fiddling with the screens and Watchers. One of them appears to be working, but I can't quite make out the pictures.

"Where is the Warden?" Zuko demands.

"The infirmary," Shai says slowly, rising to his feet. Then his eyes rest on me, still in the prince's arms. "Why? What's happened?"

Zuko ignores him. He sets me down in one of the chairs and tugs off my mask. His is already discarded, dangling from a hand. "I'm going to find her," he says to me. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Just a little tired." Zuko looks at me as though he doesn't believe me, but I push him away. "Go. I'll tell Shai what we saw. You have to find the others."

Reluctantly, he finally nods and stands up. Once he's out the door, I lay my head down on the table and hug myself tightly, trying to keep myself from falling apart by the sudden gaping hole in my chest. Shai comes to my side, asking me questions I can barely hear. That sense of emptiness washes over me again and this time I don't resist the pull.

I close my eyes and fade away.

Buzzing filters through my ears. Only it isn't insects, but arguing voices. My eyes slowly crack open and the world is tilted sideways.

Then Toph looms over me, her eyes milky and wide. I think she's grinning. Is this a dream? "Rise and shine, Sweetness," she says.

The room silences. A moment later, another voice rings clear. "Is she awake?"

I don't hear the answer. I'm already drifting into darkness.

Sokka is here. He's young, probably eight or nine. I am, too. We're running through the snow and laughing, our faces wind burnt and red. I'm out ahead of him. I've always been a little faster. I turn around again, still laughing.

"Come on, Sokka! Bet you can't catch me!"

He bends over to catch his breath. "Slow down," he pants. "We're going too far."

"No, we're not," I sing-song back to him. Then I take off running again.

"Katara, wait!" he calls after me.

"Gotta catch me first!"

"We have to go back!"

"I don't wanna go back!"

I shiver against the cold, only my body and face is on fire.

"Drink this, Katara."

Slowly, I open my mouth in time to feel something press against my lips. The warm liquid slides down my throat. I cough and sputter at the bitterness.

A hand presses to my cheek.

My mouth opens again, trying to formulate a question. But nothing comes out and I'm floating away before I can remember what I wanted to ask.

The wind is coop and crisp, whipping my hair behind me. I tilt my head back, letting the sunlight warm my face. I feel free and alive, endless. When I open my eyes and glance to my left, I see Zuko staring at me across the distance.

"Are you sure about this?" he says.

"Are you?" I answer back.

He turns and faces forward, the traces of a smile forming across his lips. Then he snaps his reigns lightly.

He's flying.

I look down and realize I am, too.

The square is crowded, the faces of victors staring back at me from upon the raised dais. The Fire Lord is asking for volunteers.

I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. I try to take a step forward, but my feet are incased in ice. My hand stays fastened to my side. I can't move, can't speak.

Can't volunteer.

Hama! I try to cry out. Hama, Hama, Hama!

She smiles at me sadly, as if she hears me calling her name. But it isn't her I need to hear me. It's the Fire Lord and no matter how hard I try, nothing comes out. A cannon blasts.

The victors—among them Hama and Pakku, still smiling at me sadly—go up in flames.

My scream dies with them.

"Wake up, Katara," a voice demands of me.

"Be nice," another voice snaps, then drops to something softer. "Katara, please wake up. I need you to drink this. Katara?"

I try to open my eyes. But when I do I don't see anything but blinding white light. It takes me a second to blink it away, and when my eyes finally focus on something real, it's Sokka.

And he's smiling at me.

"Sokka?" I croak.

"Hey, Sis," he says. His voice sounds different, though I can't pinpoint what it is.

"My head hurts," I complain.

"It will get better."

For some reason, I find myself believing him. I look around and realize I'm surrounded by blurs of green and blue, the colors swirling at my feet. Am I standing in water?

I'm about to ask where we are, but suddenly I notice Sokka is dressed in his usual blue tunic, complete with heavy boots and a spear in hand.

"Did you catch anything?" I ask, nodding to the spear.

"Not yet," he says pleasantly. "But the day is still young."

"Can I come with you?"

Sokka's grin fades. "Not today," he says.

"Why not?"

I blink and suddenly he's no longer holding a spear. He's not dressed in arctic blue anymore, either. He's wearing robes of white, the color blending to the floor he's standing on. Part of me realizes this should confuse me, but for some reason it doesn't.

"I want to come with you," I tell him instead.

"Not today," he says again.

I find myself moving closer to him. His arms open and I melt into him, letting him pull me into a tight embrace. He feels so warm, so solid. So real.

"Am I…" my voice trails off. "Is this real?"

"Does it matter?"

I consider it, and then decide that it doesn't. "Can you stay?" I ask.

"No," he says sadly. "And neither can you."

"I miss you." I hug him tighter to me. The overwhelming sense of loss seems to hit me hard all of the sudden, as if I've been immune to it until now. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too," he says. "I'm so proud of you, Katara."

"How can you say that," I whisper.

"You survived," he says. "Against all odds, you survived. It's all I wanted."

"Please." My voice starts to shake. It's begun to rain, but the drops are in reverse, rising from the water into the sky. And I can't feel it. "Please don't leave me again."

"I've never left you, Katara." Sokka pulls back and wipes the tears from under my eyes, the gesture so familiar. "I never will."

He looks as though he wants to tell me something more. His jaw works, his mouth opening and closing.

"What is it?" I ask.

His face starts to fade.

"No!" The word tears from my throat. The rain is picking up. I reach out, but my fingers slide right through him, like I'm trying to hang on to water. "Sokka, wait!"

His voice echoes through me, only it isn't just his voice. I hear a thousand voices, some familiar and some not, and it leaves me shuddering.

"Wake up, Katara," they all say.

Wake up.

My eyes fly open and I jolt forward. Almost immediately a wave of nausea rolls through me and I close my eyes, hoping it will pass. It doesn't. I lean over to the side and vomit. It tastes acidic and burns my throat. I cough and gag until I feel like I lose a lung.

"Easy, Kat. Relax," I hear. I'm too light headed and nauseous to feel remotely embarrassed when I recognize the voice. Maybe later, when I've recovered and the room stops spinning.

I don't notice it until now, but I'm thankful for the hand in my hair, keeping it from my face because I have to vomit again. This time, my eyes have adjusted to the room—my tent—a little better and I see the stone basin next to my bed. I grab it in time.

When I finish, my stomach muscles relax and despite the burning in my throat, I feel emptied out and a little better. Silently, Bowen hands me a piece of cloth. I use it to wipe my mouth.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

I don't want to look, but I do anyway. Yeah, I missed the basin completely the first time. The embarrassment is slowly starting to catch up to me.

I sit the basin and cloth back on the floor. "Sorry you had to see that," I say, my cheeks flushing slightly.

"It might surprise you, but I've seen worse things," he says.

It doesn't. The teasing in his voice makes me feel a little better though.

"I kind of missed the basin the first time," I admit.

"Another surprise, your aim needs improvement." Bowen lets go of my hair. It falls down my back, wavy beneath my fingertips when I run my hands through the strands awkwardly. He stands up and says, "I'll get someone to clean it up."

My cheeks burn again. I try to tell him I can do it, but he's already ducking out the tent. I sigh and close my eyes.

I don't know the poor girl who comes in to clean my mess, but I thank her three times for it. Another woman brings me a fresh basin and water to gargle. She offers me fresh clothes and a bath, but I assure her I'm clean. As the girl wipes down the floor, bits of memories resurface, some more confusing than others. One thing I know for certain is that overwhelming sense of emptiness is still here.

I still have no bending.

The girl leaves, and I apologize and thank her again. I know I should ask Bowen about the crimson skies. I should ask what Thirteen is doing, if the people know what we saw, what our plan is next. But right now I don't care. I don't care about anything other than what I've lost.

"You don't have the Red Death," says Bowen.

"I know," I say. It's worse than that.

"It could be worse, Kat," he says, as if hearing my thoughts. "You could be dying."

I look up at him, but for some reason my gaze slides past and around him.

"He's not hiding under your bed, if that's what you think," says Bowen.

I snap my attention back to his face. "Who?"

"Who?" Bowen repeats, shaking his head. He laughs slightly. "When he's not here, he's in Research."

I hadn't even realized I was looking for him until Bowen points it out. Jerk. "What's he doing in Research?" I ask.

Bowen's mouth quirks into a knowing smile, but he doesn't rub it in. Instead he moves toward the entrance of my tent. "Looking for answers," he says. "I'll tell him you're awake."

"I don't want to see him," I say. Bowen pauses, a hand holding up the flap of my tent. He turns and looks at me in confusion and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "I don't want to see anyone."

"Why?"

"My bending is gone," I say hollowly. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them against me. "I just…I just want to be alone."

"Kat—"

"Please." I close my eyes. "Please just leave me alone, Bowen. All of you. I'll answer your questions, I'll do what the Warden asks, I'll tell you everything I know…but not right now. Not tonight."

Bowen is quiet so long I think he's left, but finally he just says, "All right."

I open my eyes and search his face. Pity swims in his eyes, something that usually bothers me but for some reason, right now it doesn't. "Sometimes you remind me of him," I say, my mouth muffled against my knees. To Bowen's lifted brow, I add, "My brother. Sokka."

His mouth lifts in one corner. "Except better looking, more charming, and—"

"Humble?" I offer.

"I love it when you compliment me."

I almost smile.

"You can't avoid everyone forever," he says, solemn and gentle. "Tomorrow, I'll have to tell the Warden you're awake."

"Traitor," I say, though I don't sound very accusing.

"In many ways," he says. And then he's gone.

The next morning, Asami greets me with a bowl of hot grain for breakfast. She offers me condolences that sound more assuring than the words actually make me feel. Then she tells me she will return in an hour to escort me to Command. I feel a sudden urge to strangle them all. But as Asami turns to leave, something new occurs to me, something horrible.

"Pakku," I choke out his name. "Did…does he…is he…?"

"Yes," says Asami, sounding reluctant. "His is gone, too."

I try to nod. The hollow pit in my chest seems to intensify and I'm glad I finished my breakfast. So many questions form in my mind, but I push them away, not wanting to deal with them. It takes me nearly the whole hour to bath and dress. I move slowly, as if trudging through heavy snows and weakened by the cold and fatigue. When Asami returns, I follow her to Command and try my best not to scream.

When we arrive, most of the White Lotus is here. When I don't see the face I'm searching for, I turn to the Warden at the head of the main table.

"Where's Pakku?" I ask.

"How are you feeling?" Ursa asks. Her eyes glow with sympathy.

"Fine," I lie. "Where's Pakku?" I ask again.

"He is still recovering," she says. "We've moved him to the infirmary."

"The infirmary?" I echo.

"Katara, please take a seat—"

"No," I say, unable to move. "No one moved me to the infirmary. Why him?"

Ursa glances at Asami, who takes her cue. She steps into my line of vision, forcing me to look at her. "Your chi is the energy that flows through your body," she says. "It's the root to your bending. Your body is trying to find a new way to energize itself, after your chi was zapped from the loss of bending. This explains your fatigue and inconsistent energy over the past few days. Due to Pakku's age and stamina, he is recovering more slowly."

"The infirmary allows us to place him in the care of healers who can monitor him all hours," says Ursa. "This will ensure his recovery."

I'm about to say I'm the only healer here, but the words die on my lips. I'm not a healer anymore. I'm nothing.

I plop down into a chair at the table, dazed. Empty.

Ursa asks me questions and I struggle to remain focused. I recount the same story I know Zuko must have told—where is he? I can't place how his absence makes me feel. When Ursa asks about my bending, I fear she's going to ask me to try to do it. I'm thankful she doesn't. Theories of the crimson sky and connection to Pakku and I take up most of the conversation after my questioning. The wildest one I hear is that the Avatar has returned. Ursa orders no one to leave the facility until a public announcement is made. My mind remains unfocused and I miss what the announcement will say.

What snaps me out of my daze, however, is when there's a loud rapping at the door. Ursa slides on her mask and motions Asami to open it. A masked Equalist barges into the room and moves to Ursa's side quickly, leaning in close to speak quietly in her ear. Silently, she holds out her hand. The Equalist places a small scroll inside her palm; and then gives a bow and leaves.

"What is it?" asks Asami.

Ursa unrolls the document and pauses as she reads. Then she says, "Jeong Jeong and Piandao have been arrested." Her voice is calmly quiet. "They've been taken to the Boiling Rock."

"He knows who they are, then," says Shai.

"It was only a matter of time," says Ursa. She crumples the document and places her hands behind her back, deep in thought. The gesture is so reminiscent of Azula that I feel my breath catch. "The White Lotus is no longer viewed an empty threat. It appears we have his attention now."

"We aren't prepared for his attention," says Asami. She flips through the papers on her clipboard, shaking her head. "Our resources are low, we barely have enough food to sustain the year, the engines need fuel and the Red Death—"

"We are safe here," says Ursa. Conviction laces her voice. "We will find areas to grow our food or we will create them, underground in our facility. Are we not benders? This plague has transformed this province to rot, but it will not defeat us." She looks at Asami then. "You have fought too hard to give into doubt."

"I apologize," says Asami, bowing her head. "I shouldn't…I will visit the laboratory and speak to Jin about—"

"I'll go," I say. Before anyone can suggest otherwise, I leave the room, willing for an escape.

I don't immediately go to the garden. Instead I walk without real purpose or destination in mind, only with the desire to go somewhere I can hide to avoid talking to anyone. Two members of the White Lotus have been captured. How the Fire Lord found out they were members is a mystery to me, but something worth considering.

Finally I wind up in the garden. There's a tangy, medicinal smell that wafts over me. Jin isn't here. Maybe she's in the dining hall or taking a bath. I decide to wait here, motivation and energy slipping away from me. I slide down next to a crate of ink bottles and curl up against it.

Something wakes me. A shake against my shoulders. I blink away the sleep until a fuzzy image hovers above me. A girl. Bright green eyes, two messy braids and dirt smudged cheeks. Jin.

"Sorry," I mumble. My neck aches from the position I've been in for who knows how long. "I was looking for you."

Jin bends down so that we're eye to eye. "Are you in pain?"

A sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh escapes me. "I'm not dying," I say, thinking of Bowen's words. "They want to harvest and grow our own food below ground. Can you do it?"

"The soil is too sick," she says. "It must be cleansed." With that discouragement, she gets up and moves to her stations.

I just lay here, pressed against the crate, and watch her work as she hums a soft lullaby: scribble against parchment, snip and cut up herbs, pour colored liquids into vials, mix creams into jars. She spends a great deal of time working on a substance she says will create an explosion. I tell her not to test it while I'm here.

It must be cleansed.

Bowen finds me hours later, still curled up against the crate. Jin covers her ears when he enters, but doesn't scream at him or throw things. He shoots me an exasperated look as he helps me stand, putting an arm around my waist to support my weight. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"Leave her be," I say to him.

Reluctant, he does, and we make our way back. I tell him I just want to sleep and despite the argument I can see forming in his eyes, he takes me back to my tent.

I dream of his voice and a hand pressed against my cheek. But when I open my eyes, I see an Equalist in full uniform. Their hand withdraws to rip off their mask.

Zuko. A feeling—something like anger— rises up inside me when I see him, but curiosity overrides it. What's he doing here so late? And where has he been?

I almost demand an excuse. He almost gives me one.

What he offers me, however, is better. It's reality, something I've tried to protect myself from lately. He says nothing. Instead he hands me a battered picture. I smooth it out and it takes me a second to realize it's a poster, a decree from the Fire Lord. A memory pricks at my mind. I've seen something familiar before.

But this one is me. My face, my name.

Wanted Alive—Katara of Province 9. Sixteen years old. This fugitive is a victor of the 75th Annual Black Games and a skillful Waterbender. Wanted for rebellious activity and traitorous crimes against the Capital. Any information regarding the fugitive is to be reported to a Head Guard. One thousand gold pieces will be rewarded to the capturer and five hundred gold pieces rewarded to their province. Permission to kill on sight: Denied.

I can't rip my eyes away from it. There's more information, details about my appearance, like the scar that runs across my throat and the one Suki gave me across my cheek.

A skillful Waterbender.

"Where did you get this?" I ask, stifling back a sob.

Zuko ignores my question. "I haven't showed the White Lotus yet," he says. "I thought you should see first."

This courtesy is worth more than an excuse or an apology. If I didn't feel like I've just been shoved off a cliff, I might have smiled at him. "One thousand gold pieces," I whisper. "Five hundred to the capturer's province."

"Currency makes monsters out of men," says Zuko. "Your biggest supporters will turn you in for a bit of gold."

"That's more than a bit," I say. I'm almost tempted to turn myself over if it meant five hundred pieces went to Nine. "The others?"

"Pakku," says Zuko. "And Bowen."

I can imagine Bowen's reaction now. "Well," he will say, "there must be a mistake. I am certainly worth more gold pieces than that."

I wonder how many provinces the posters are posted in and how old they are. It can't be too recent, for me to be...to be listed as a Waterbender. The thought leaves me colder than ever.

Unless the Fire Lord doesn't know. Unless only a selected number of benders has been affected. How many days or weeks has my dad seen me painted as a criminal? Will they torture him for answers? How many provinces will the Fire Lord burn to ash to find us?

To stifle a scream, I reach up to ball a fist into my mouth, but Zuko catches it and squeezes tightly. He bends down to my level.

"Katara," he says gently, and that voice stills me completely. It tells me there is more, that the posters are just the beginning. I force myself to look at him, preparing for the deathblow. "Tell me," I demand.

His jaw clenches and he fights indecision.

"Tell me."

And because Zuko has always treated me as though I'm strong, he does. "The Capital has evacuated Province 9," he says.

"To where?" My voice shakes. This isn't happening. "Where is my dad?"

Somehow I know the answer before he says it.

"I don't know."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Review responses will be posted in a few days. Also I wanted to give an update on future stories and a new fic. After this story, I will probably be writing Dark Side of the Moon, my Zutara/Mulan AU. After that, I'm currently in the early stages of outline a Game of Thrones inspired ATLA/LoK fic. Yikes, I'm nervous about that one. I can't get the idea out of my head though and I love Game of Thrones. So here I am. Some things to note:

- It will be told in multiple POV in third person.

- It is based loosely off the show rather than the book.

- It doesn't have a title yet, but I'm leaning toward "A Song of Dragons and Wolves." Feel free to leave me suggestions, haha.

- Brace yourselves. Winter is coming.

Review Responses:

Tophlet: "What I love is that you do such a great job of expressing their frustrations and disappointments in each other while preserving that underlying fondness." - Thank you! I think there's a delicate balance between the ups and downs of their relationship. Zuko and Katara aren't perfect, and I love that they challenge one another and don't see the other for only the light; they see the shadows too and understand them.

Valiant Lies: "I have read The Black Games and The Rise of One in under 24 hours, and I worked for eight of those." - That's pretty intense! haha I'm glad you liked them enough to zip through. :D

jul1i3oh: "Katara' s dad? - More on him next chapter!

"Blood bending" - There will be bloodbending, yes. :D

kt96: "For some reason i have trouble visualising how Bowen looks like" - I used Photoshop on a graphic and got close to what I pictured. It's posted on my profile page, I believe. The hair isn't quite how I imagined but close. Try looking up "Noctis Final Fantasy" and you'll get the kind of hair I imagined. :P I'm glad you enjoyed the romance, too! :)

Me Bored inc: "How did your writing style develop, what inspired you to start writing?" - Firstly, thank you for your lovely comment and review. *hugs* I'm not really sure how my style developed. This might sound weird, but I don't feel like I have a style? I just write the way that feels natural I guess, lol. The more I write and read, the easier it gets. The inspiration to write fanfiction happened a few years ago when I decided I hated how Harry Potter and the Half Blood prince ended. I also wanted to explore a Hermione/Draco relationship in that book. So I decided to write my own version of book 6 in Hermione's POV with a Dramione spin. (It's called Changing Fate) I honestly don't remember how I discovered fanfiction to begin with though. :P

enddewhirst: "The romantic in me just hopes there is more lovey dovey action between Katara and Zuko, wink wink ;)" - Lol well, I will say there's one scene coming up in the near future that I think is the most romantic of any in the whole trilogy. :D

Q&A (The next will be when chapter 10 is posted)

For Zuko

"How did you feel when Katara finally disarmed you?" - Proud

"Do you think you can ever forgive your mother?" - I don't know.

" Can you please kiss Katara again?" - Uhh...

For Katara

"I realize you're all down in District 13 right now and it not the easiest place to pamper yourself at, but who has better hair, Prince Zuko, Bowen or Asami?" - Don't tell Bowen, but probably Asami.

"what is the best part of training with Zuko?" - He pushes me and makes me stronger.

"would you like to learn more about your healing and bloodbending abilities with waterbending?" - Yes, I would.

For Bowen

"What is your favorite thing about Katara?" - Her faith.