Yes, I have returned. Huzzah! I have been very distracted writing another fan fic . . .

This chappie is kind of a filler, so bear with me on the boring stuff. Enjoy!

OH, I haven't posted any disclaimers yet! Bad me! I do not own Avatar, any of its characters, the bending, blah blah blah . . . However, I DO own Mahoca and Shen and all those good made up guys!

EDIT - - Okay, guys, I get it. Believe it or not, I know how Aang's name is spelled. Whoop-dee-doo. I wrote this story when I was fifteen, so forgive me for not knowing that Microsoft Word edited all of the "Aangs" in this chapter to "Sang". Please, forgive me, for I have wronged (Insert dripping sarcasm). I do not have time to edit this whole chapter, so feel free to do it and send it to me. Enjoy!

A KATAANG FANFICTION: CHAPTER 13
SCARS

Sang opened his eyes, surprised at how stiff his eyelids seemed to be. Disoriented, he stared at the ceiling. Groggily rolling his eyes around, he gathered in the strange room around him. White walls and tiles seemed to give it an unlively feel, and he suddenly realized that he was in an infirmary. Frowning, he attempted to lift his head. Gasping, he immediately dropped it when a stabbing pain pulsed through his temples.

He tried to move his arm, but realized that something warm was pinning it to his side. The warm something twitched slightly when he pulled, and he gently turned his head.

It was Katara. She was fast asleep, breathing heavily. Her body was curled up into a ball, and the curve of her back seemed to fit perfectly in Aang's side. She was snuggled up extremely close, her hair just brushing his jawbone. However, the proximity of her closeness didn't seem to keep her warm, and he realized that she was shaking feverishly.

Gritting his teeth, Sang gingerly sat up, groaning when fifty other pains added to the one in his head. Trying to shake it off, he leaned forward and grabbed the blanket that was precariously bunched at the end of the mattress. Turning, he winced when a terrible pang of agony punched right into his stomach. Holding in the moan, he softly draped the fuzzy material over Katara, and then lowered himself back down, this time lying on his side. Seeming like a natural act, he placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer so that the curve of her back now rested comfortably against his chest and stomach. Propping his throbbing head up with his other arm, he laid there and watched her sleep, glad to see her chest rising and falling steadily. He couldn't see her face, though, and wondered if she looked peaceful or distressed.

Sadly recounting the events of their wedding evening, he remembered how he had fallen right in front of Katara.

"I'm so sorry . . ." he whispered, stroking her hair. "You deserve better. You shouldn't have to be put through so much . . . Especially while we're so young." Sighing, he rested his arm on her waist again. He let his eyes drift shut, but he knew he couldn't sleep. There were too many points on his body where pain was prevalent. So instead, he let his mind wander. He thought about random things, things like war meeting and battle. Azula crossed his mind, and he scowled.
"I promise, Katara . . . I promise I'll stop Azula, even if it means killing her." A dark look clouded his face. "She's gone too far."

Sang sat, trying to ponder on positive remedies. A strange thought abruptly paraded through his train of though:

Katara was his WIFE. They were married. Aang smiled. She wasn't just his girlfriend anymore . . . she was his partner.

He jumped when Katara moaned in her sleep, twitching. Sang froze, holding his breath. She shifted again, more noticeably this time. She uttered another soft groan, but it formed into words.
"No," she mumbled, "NO!" her back suddenly arched, and she gave out a small cry. "Not him!" she sobbed, still asleep. "Not him . . . no . . ."

"Katara!" Sang murmured, rubbing her arm. "Wake up!"

She grunted, trying to shake his arm off. He sat up with less difficulty, clutching his stomach. "Katara," he repeated, "wake up, love." He shook her harder this time. Finally, she jumped and fell still. He hesitated, hand still on her shoulder. "Katara . . .?" he murmured again, trying to get her attention. He leaned over and pulled the hair from the side of her face. As he did so, she seemed to come around. At the feeling of his touch, her head flipped over, and he found her big blue eyes staring him down.

"Hey," he whispered, touching her forehead, "are you awake now?"

At that, she fumbled around a bit, but hastily sat up. A small, indiscrete sound escaped her lips when she threw her arms around his neck and began to sob. Her whole body shook with the force of her cries. Sang wrapped an arm around her, slightly alarmed by her abrupt hysterics. But, he let her sob her heart out on his shoulder. When she calmed down a touch, he asked, "Nightmare?"

She hiccupped, grasping the fabric of his shirt in her fists. "You're awake!" she stammered, sniffing. "Finally awake . . ."

"Finally?" Sang asked, confused.

Katara nodded against his chest. "You've been out for a week."

Aang's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

She nodded.

"Oh . . ." He murmured, using a hand to pull her closer. "I'm so sorry, Katara."

She stayed quiet, tears still escaping form her tired eyes.

"What about you?" Sang asked. "Are you all right?"

She nodded once again. "I broke my arm in three places, my ankle in one. But I'm okay now." She dropped her arm, showing him the splint that encased it up to her shoulder. "I'm not worried about myself, though." She added, pulling back to look at him. Lightly, she placed her fingertips over the place Azula's knife had stabbed him. Though her touch was soft, he winced.

"Sorry." She said, jerking her hand back.

Sang shook his head. "Don't be, love." Touching her face, he wiped away the stray tear tracks gleaming on her cheeks. "I need to see it, anyways." He dropped his hands to his shirt, pulling it over his head. He was careful to avoid the lump that was perched right on his crown. Dropping the shirt to the floor, he saw that his entire torso was wrapped in clean white cloth.

"This is starting to feel like it did when I woke up after Azula shot me." He mumbled as he began unwinding the strips. One after another he removed, and the pile of cloths grew in his lap. Finally, he reached the last one. Holding his breath, he removed it.

Katara looked away, shuddering. Right above his belly button, there was a long, thin line that showed where the knife had hit. It was red and swollen, looking enflamed. All around it, a deep purple bruise spread its fingers like a dark ink splotch. The edges were fading out to yellow, but it was far from healed.

Sang stared at it, making a disgusted face. "Well, that's gross," he said, about to poke it with a finger. Katara reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it away.

"They just finished repairing your stomach." She explained. "The dagger went right through it. They just sealed this up yesterday." She gestured to the wound. "Plus, you had a huge fracture in your skull." Her bottom lip quivered. "You . . . you almost died. More than once."

Sang pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. "You saved me, didn't you?" he squeezed her. "I love you . . . More than you know."

Katara inhaled, absorbing the wonderful feeling at hearing those words again. "I love you, too." She murmured.

Sang gave her another squeeze. "Now," he said, "what was your nightmare about?"

Katara shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it. I've been having it every night, but tonight was the worst."

Sang felt her body tremble. "It'll make you feel better if you tell me," he said, rubbing her back soothingly, "it'll get it off of your mind."

Katara hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. "It . . ." she started, taking a deep breath. "Every night . . . It's the same. Azula is there, laughing. Blood is always gushing from her mouth . . . and she is always laughing. That's bad enough . . . But then, you appear. The only problem is, as soon as you show up, she kills you. The first night I had it, she stabbed you. It got worse every night, and just barely . . . the one I had tonight, she was about to cut your head off. But you woke me up."
Sang fingered his neck, frowning.

"I don't want this to continue." She mumbled, closing her eyes. "Every night I woke up, and you have no idea how relieved I would be to see you lying there, intact and breathing.

Sang sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to wake you up . . ." He said. "I should have been there for you."

Katara pulled back, scowling. "Don't be sorry for something Azula caused." Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand over the stab wound extremely carefully. "Especially something like this."

Sang didn't reply. Gently, he took her hand from his stomach, interlacing their fingers. Staring at some unseen object across the room, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. He held it there, still gazing into the darkness. "I'm sorry, Katara." He murmured. "Sorry that I have to be such a danger to you."

"Sang—"

"No," he sighed, closing his eyes. "It's true . . . Don't deny it. Maybe if I wasn't the Avatar, we could live a happy life together . . . With no danger involved."

"Sang," Katara interrupted softly, "if you weren't the Avatar, we wouldn't even know each other, much less be married. You would probably be dead. In fact, you WOULD be dead. I wouldn't even know that you had ever existed." She touched his face with her wrapped hand. "We wouldn't be sitting here right now." She whispered. "I could very well be married to Mahoca." Pulling their hands away from his lips, she leaned forward and kissed him. "Sometimes, it's a curse . . ." she murmured, "but most of the time, it's a blessing. If you look at it that way, can you still look me in the eye and tell me sorry for being the Avatar?"

Aang's lips unwillingly twitched up into a smile. He shook his head, laughing softly. "You always bring out the best of everything," he mumbled, sweeping her hair out of her face. "I love you for that."

Katara grinned, yawning.

"What time is it, anyways?" He asked.

Katara rubbed her eyes. "It's sometime in the middle of the night," she answered.

Sang nodded. "You need to get back to sleep. You look exhausted."

She shook her head. "I want to stay up with you," she mumbled. But, she yawned again when Sang pulled her forward and kissed her forehead.

"I'm here now," he said, "and I'll be here when you wake up." Gently, he turned her around, and then pulled her down with him as he lay on his side. Pulling her closer, he situated himself so that the curve of her back was placed evenly with his chest and stomach, just as it was before she had woken up.

"I don't want to have the nightmare again . . ." she whispered.

"You won't," Sang assured her. "I'm here now. You won't have it again. Sleep now." He pulled her hair back from her face again, stroking her cheek with loving fingertips.

Katara caught the hand that was draped over her waist. Grasping it, she said, "I know I won't have it now." Sighing, she added, "I love you."

"I love you, too." Sang said. "You know I do."

Katara nodded, and within moments, she was asleep, breathing deep and even.
Eventually, Sang slipped into rest as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The bright morning light pierced through the window like a sunlight blade. The infirmary was lit like a sunroom, and it woke Katara up. She groggily stirred, stretching her left arm out in front of her. Grunting, she used the same hand to run her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. Groaning, she sat up, stretching her legs.

"Good morning, sunshine," came a familiar voice.

Grinning, she turned and saw Sang. He was sitting at the end of the bed, meditating.
"Did you sleep well?" He asked, his eyes still closed. Katara noticed that his head was clean-shaven.

"I slept VERY well," she said, grabbing a crutch from the wall. Standing, she leaned on it heavily. Due to her broken ankle, she was forbidden from putting weight on it until it healed. She stood and hobbled over the Sang. He had a fresh bandage around his stomach, but she wanted to check on it.

"I can probably heal the stab wound," she said, placing a hand on the side of his face. His eyes slowly opened.

"Do you think you could look at the back of my head first?" He asked. "It's killing me. It's throbbing so badly that my head feels like a balloon that wants to pop."

Katara nodded. "Of course."

Sang turned around. It looked terrible. There was a goose egg, roughly the size of a small teacup. Like the knife wound, it was purple. There was a thin line where the skin had split.
"Ouch . . ." she said, sucking in a surprised breath.

"Yeah, no kidding." Sang muttered.

Katara set to work. Limping to the sink, she filled a small ceramic bowl with icy water. Limping back, she used her waterbending to encase the back of his head with the liquid. Rotating her hands rythmatically, she closed her eyes and focused. She centered her healing abilities on that particular spot, and the water glowed blue.

Sang clenched his hands, scrunching his eyebrows. But, the pain didn't last, and the throbbing in his head vanished. His body visually relaxed in relief. A small groan of release emanated from his chest. "Thank you," he said, "that feels a million times better."

Katara placed the water back in the bowl. "You're welcome," she replied. "Now, unwrap your stomach so I can heal it."

Sang nodded, and began to unravel the fresh cloths. While he did that, Katara hobbled over to get some fresh water.

"How is your ankle feeling?" Sang asked from across the room.

"It's all right," she said, "It's just a pain not being able to walk or use my arm." The bowl filled, she hopped back to Sang. He had finished undoing the straps, which sat in a heap at his side. The stab wound looked the same as it had the night before. Katara shook her head.

"What am I going to do with you?" she muttered. Lightly pushing his shoulder, she said, "Lie back."

He obediently did so, wincing when his stomach flexed.

"Relax." She said. He closed his eyes, trying his best.

"It'll hurt for a second," Katara warned. Then, she used her left hand to summon water from the bowl. Inhaling deeply, she placed her palm over the wound. The water swirled around the enflamed skin, draining out the infection. Then, it glowed a piercing blue. Fading away, it left Aang's stomach about ¾ healed. HE exhaled loudly, letting go of the bedspread.

"The rest has to heal naturally," Katara informed him, "but that'll be pretty easy. It looks TONS better now." She traced a finger over the thin white line. She shook her head again.

"What?" Sang asked, curious.

Katara frowned. "You have so many scars . . ." she muttered. "I hate being reminded of how much you have suffered. I wish they would just . . . Disappear."

Sang grinned softly. "Hon, you think I like being reminded?" He laughed. "Each of them represents a time I almost . . . or DID . . . Die. But you know what's worse?" he sat up, grunting. "My emotional scars." He placed a hand over his stomach. "For example . . . when you died. That will NEVER leave my memories. The horrible sense of seeing you pale and still . . ." He turned his head. "When I die, my physical scars will disappear. However, my memories will be forever imprinted."

Suddenly, he had a rapid change of subject. Leaping off of the bed, he said enthusiastically, "Let's go do something!"

"Like what?" Katara asked.

Sang shrugged. "I don't know . . . But you and I need to spend some time together. I mean, we're married and we haven't even been on a date yet." He bent over and plucked his shirt up off the ground. "What would you like to do? Lunch, walk, go flying . . . Anything."

"Well," Katara said, "nobody knows you're awake, Sang. I have a feeling we are going to face a bunch of people before we go anywhere."

"Good point . . ." He agreed, his voice muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head. "Plus, we need to stop by the house so we can look presentable." He motioned to his plain white infirmary robes. "I feel like Mai."

"Well, you don't look like her." Laughed Katara.

Aang's expression suddenly darkened. "Is she all right?"

Katara nodded. "Zuko was really mad that you trapped him in that earth tent. He said that he wanted to fight. Apparently, when we fell unconscious, some earthbenders let him and Mai out."
Sang nodded. "Anyone else hurt?"

"No," she answered, "they found Toph and Sokka, though. They were found unconscious. Azula and her thugs knocked them out so that they couldn't help."

"Thank goodness she didn't kill them . . ." Sang muttered.

An awkward silenced fell between the two, in which Sang scratched his head and Katara fiddled with her splint. After a moment of this, Sang abruptly stepped forward. HE roughly, yet gently, pulled Katara to him, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She hooked her uninjured arm under his shoulder, grasping the fabric of his plain infirmary shirt.

"It feels so good to hold you again." He said. "We need to get away for a while, don't we?"

Katara nodded slightly. "Yeah . . . We really do."

Sang nodded as well. "We will. After all of this settles down, we'll go."

They fell silent again, absorbing each other's company.

"Um . . . Hey, Sang?" Katara suddenly asked.

"Yeah?"

"I have a question . . ."

"What is it?"

She turned bright red. "Have . . . have you ever considered . . . Starting a family?"

Sang wasn't expecting that. Taken aback, he paused for a moment. "Well . . ." he stated. "Of course. I mean, I told you that when I proposed, didn't I? Well, not really proposing, bringing you back to life . . . But, yes, of course I have. Why?"

Katara's face fell. "Because . . . I've always, for as long as I can remember, wondered whether or not I would make a good mom." She fiddled with his collar. "I mean, I grew up without a mom. I had no role model. What if I just screw things up?"

Sang hesitated. "Quite honestly, Katara," he said, "I have no doubt in any corner of my mind that you will be the BEST mom any kid could ever ask for. I mean, you love, you know how to lay down the law, you're protective, sensitive . . ." He pulled back from her. "Don't worry about it," he said, "we have lots of time to discuss that topic. Right now, we need to focus on pinning down Azula." Grinning, he kissed her softly on the mouth. "Come on, let's head out."

Katara sighed, nodding. "Thanks, Sang. I needed that."

He flashed another smile. "Take my hand . . ." he said. "I don't want you breaking your face on the ground or something."

Katara took it. Beaming, she said, "Okay, let's go!" and opened the door.

Instantly, there were cries of "HE'S AWAKE!" and they were engulfed in the crowd.