AN: This chapter is more of a flashback to the months before the masquerade when Katara was dealing with her depression. I wanted to actually depict how Zuko helped her get through it, since I've mentioned it a few times. Not sure about the placement of the chapter within the story so I might move it later. Anyway, inspired by Coldplay's "Fix You."

Revised: 2/12/2015

"Katara!"

BANG BANG BANG!

"Katara, you can't stay in there forever!"

Sokka hoped that would elicit some response but was sorely disappointed. He hadn't even heard a peep from his baby sister the whole time, and he'd been standing outside her door for a few hours.

Maybe she isn't even there? Or maybe...A sudden shock went through the warrior, and he pulled at the door with renewed vigor.

"Just let me know you're alive!" He pleaded, hoping and praying she was. Even though he didn't think Katara would take her own life, it didn't hurt to make sure he'd barge in on her dead body.

Falling silent, he listened with anticipation for anything. Then, to his greatest relief, he heard a shuffling of bare feet on the other side. The door opened, and he immediately pulled her into a stifling sibling hug that she did not refuse. Her arms wrapped weakly around his chest, and that was all the reciprocation he got.

"I thought maybe you..."

There was a long silence before she answered, Sokka rubbing soothing motions on her back.

"Dad would be so disappointed. That's a coward's way out," she croaked, her voice cracking from disuse. "I'm not dead, so leave me alone." With this she pulled back, and her brother unwillingly let go.

"Come on Katara, everyone's worried about you. When was the last time you ate?" He frowned in concern, finally taking in her state. "When was the last time you did anything but lay in bed?"

Katara's hair was a knotted mess, dark circles colored the area under her eyes, and her skin was becoming pale. Her eyes were unfocused, even while she was looking at him. Rather, she was looking through him, as if he didn't exist. Suppressing a shudder, he made to put his hand on her arm but she shrunk from his touch.

"Just leave me alone, Sokka." She stepped back into her room and was gone faster than he could comprehend. He tried the door, but it was sealed. But by what? Must be her bending, he thought angrily.

"Don't make me get Zuko involved in this! I'll have him burn you out, if that's what it takes!" The silence was like his threat - hollow. He clenched his jaw in frustration, but he would wait until she came out. With that, he sat across the hall from her door, leaning back against the wall.

Why does everyone come to me with their problems? Oh yeah, I'm the Fire Lord.

Zuko stood outside of Katara's door, unsure how exactly to start. It had been two weeks since Sokka last talked to her, and nothing much had changed. She was still holed up in her room, but according to the Head Cook, food was always missing by morning in the kitchens. At least she was eating, unless they had a major rat problem.

He had come at night, when she was presumedly most active. The only reason he was here was because Sokka was pestering him about it. Personally, he thought that she would heal in time. The other young man was very persistent, though, and he won out in the end. With a sigh of defeat, he knocked at the door.

"Katara?" He waited patiently for a few moments before continuing. "Sokka is worried about you. We all are," he added, trying not to screw up whatever he was doing. All was silent for a few minutes more, but then the telltale noises of moment could be hear. The door slid open an inch, and she peeked out at him.

"I want to see it."

"See what?" Zuko asked, utterly baffled by her request. Maybe she was losing her mind, like Azula.

"The note. I want to see his note," she rasped, sliding the door open further. Her eyes were hungry, desperate for the last words from Aang.

"What-? Oh," he replied, suddenly exceedingly uncomfortable. This person in front of him didn't look like Katara, and certainly didn't act like her. Was it from the isolation, or from Aang? "It's in my office, if you want to follow me."

She blinked dumbly up at him, and when he took a few steps down the hall, she didn't follow. The Fire Lord's brow creased, but he held his patience. Gently he took her hand in his, as he sometimes did during his visits to Azula. Her hand clenched his in a death grip, and he took that as an encouraging sign. At least she hadn't retreated to her room.

He led her in silence for the most part, but there had been a moment where he felt talking could help her. That's what their little group did, right? Didn't they like to talk out their problems and share all their feelings? The thought made Zuko more than a bit uncomfortable, but it was for this woman who had saved his life once. It was the least he could do.

"I know it's hard to believe, but the pain will pass." She did not respond, so he tried again. "Mai...she was furious with me for keeping a personal secret. She just left and never came back." A twinge of remorse for those times, what he'd done in the past. "It made me a stronger person."

Zuko looked over his shoulder at his follower, but her head was bowed. She kept her tight grip consistent, and he wondered offhandedly if the circulation would ever return to his hand. He grit his teeth and focused on the path ahead. Why had Aang just cut her off like that? He was the Avatar, wasn't he supposed to talk out whatever problems they were having? Katara was a mess because of him, and Zuko hated it.

The pair came to a halt outside of his official office and with a measured look at his companion, he opened the door. He commanded the fire from his fingertips into the lanterns, and approached his desk. A tiny drawer on the left was where he kept it, figuring she'd want to see it sooner or later. He hesitated before opening the drawer, though, and turned back to Katara for confirmation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She made no move to answer him but to raise her head and stare at him. If he were a lesser man, he would've flinched under that gaze. Maybe the note would provide some closure, help her move on.

Zuko would have refused her this demand if he knew what would happen. If he could have predicted the usually strong, vibrant woman he knew as Katara would fall apart in front of his eyes, he would have stopped it. But he couldn't, and there she was before him, grasping the scrap of parchment with both hands and her eyes running over the words. She would stop sometimes and reread a sentence, or start from the beginning. Maybe she was having trouble processing.

He averted his eyes, letting her mourn her relationship. He couldn't stand the way she just stared at the last words. They rang clear in the Fire Lord's mind.

We're both destined for different things. One day or another, we would have had to make that choice. Please let her know I still love her.

It was as if all the air had fled from Katara's lungs. She stared blankly at the last sentence, but none of it was registering. The pain was felt with renewed vigor, but there was no crying and screaming.

No air for either.

Her head tilted up slowly, away from the offending scrap of parchment, and her eyes bore into Zuko's with maddening...something. There was a look in her eyes that he couldn't place. Lost? Abandoned? Or maybe it was the horror of her loss that was sinking into her very being. The longer she stared up at him, the more he was beginning to feel like a wise friend. Yes, that fit her eyes now: desperate expectation.

He cleared his throat. "There are few things that are worse than when you love someone and it all just...crumbles away to nothing." Whether it was the right thing to say or not, it had her clutching at the front of his night robe with shaking hands, her forehead pressed against his chest.

"You've lost something that can't be replaced," he murmured, encircling her in a loose hug. Katara only pressed harder against him, her shoulders beginning to shake with silent sobs. "We're all here for you, Katara," he continued. "If you let us help, we can all fix you."

"I should've t-tried harder," she wailed. "I-I-I should've gone with h-him!"

"You did your best. Where would your people be without you? What if you would have gone with him, and never come back? Don't you know how much Sokka would miss you?"

How much I would miss you?

The thought of never seeing such a close friend again made his grip on her tighten unconsciously.

"They would manage," she whimpered. "I am not so important."

"Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, Ambassador of her people, the infamous Negotiator? That Katara? Because I'm almost positive she's very important in the grand scheme of things," he assured her, absently rubbing a soothing hand over her back. He thought that would, at the least, elicit a chuckle. Zuko should know by this point in his life, he was not very good at reading girls. Especially emotional ones.

"What do you know about me?" Katara was spitting mad, which is pretty much the exact opposite of what he had been going for. She struggled free from his arms and he let her go without resistance. Why bother keeping her near to him when she didn't want to be?

"I know you're a good person. You're going to play an important part in reuniting the world," he frowned. In all honesty, this is what Zuko believed to be true. How could it not be? She was a fantastic diplomat, when her temper was kept on a tight leash, and she held respect with her mastery of waterbending.

"That's not who I am!" Her fists were clenched in defiant fists, eyes flashing with frustration while tears slipped down her cheeks. "Being a war hero doesn't define me! All of my quirks, habits, things only he knows - "

Here she choked on a sob, the very thought of that playful monk she had promised her future to gave her insurmountable heartache. Katara's face crumpled into a painful sadness, looking past Zuko at things he couldn't see. As suddenly as her episode had started, she was running out of his office. The parchment fluttered to the ground, but the Fire Lord had his eyes trained on the doorway she had disappeared through.

"Maybe we should send her back to the South," Suki suggested worriedly. Another week had passed since the incident between Katara and Zuko, and the situation didn't seem to be getting any better.

"Dad wouldn't know how to handle her in this state," Sokka countered, dismissing the idea altogether. Toph and Zuko were also members of this brainstorming party situated in the turtleduck garden, but so far it wasn't going well.

Toph thought a good ass-whooping was the best way to cure Katara's depression. Sokka was relying on a new herbal concoction that was proven to bring anyone out from the darkest depression, and Suki thought going home would help her heal quickest.

"Look, she'll decide when it's time for her to get over it. Just give her time," Zuko asserted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his back against a tree. Everyone was quiet after that, Toph weaving her fingers between tufts of grass and Suki watching the turtleducks. Sokka, so sure that his logic could fix anything, was deep in thought.

The opening of a door brought everyone out of their thoughts, and their shocking visitor was none other than their dear friend. Sokka made to get up, but Suki grabbed his arm, shaking her head. Zuko noted that Katara looked more well kept than last week, but still rather pale. Her hair was plaited in a simple fashion, and her clothes looked clean, but she looked more like a doll than a person with those glassy eyes.

Instead of making eye contact with the group of friends, she padded across the grass to the pond with bare feet. A soft sigh escaped her cracked lips as she dipped her toes into the water, sitting at the pond's edge. As she swirled the water around with her toes, Sokka jerked his head towards his sister and looking meaningfully at his fiancé, who looked at Zuko for his silent confirmation.

Katara didn't flinch when the warrior settled into the grass beside her, but she didn't acknowledge her either. The other three observed from a distance, and Zuko couldn't help but be hopeful.

"Hey, I - uh - brought you some flowers. To make your room look nice."

Girls liked flowers, right?

Nearly a month later, Katara was markedly improved. She was social, to an extent, but at least she joined the group of friends for meals now. Zuko had been giving a great effort into distracting her until it wouldn't hurt so much if she ever did think about Aang.

She looked up at him from a scroll with a faint smile and grateful eyes, but she was a woman of few words nowadays. Not that Zuko minded, but it made carrying on a conversation difficult. Suki insisted that this type of one-sided conversation was important to Katara, so he kept up this daily ritual.

"During the war, Uncle told me something," he began, placing the orchids and lilies carefully into a tall vase. "He said to never give in to despair, because that is when we surrender to our lowest instincts." The arranging finished, he glanced at Katara.

She was more pensive than anything, which he took to be a good sign. As long as she wasn't bursting into tears or flinging things at his head, it was usually a good sign.

"I wish Uncle was here, because he would have some really wise stuff to say." Zuko ruffled his hair in frustration because honestly, advice was not his forte. Would he ever be half the man his Uncle was? He sure hoped so.

Katara smiled up at him, something so true and genuine it was distracting, so he forced himself into more talking.

"So, how are you finding the royal archives?" He asked with a nod to the stack of scrolls at the end of her bed, and her smile turned a bit sheepish. A step closer put the young man within reading distance of the title, and he couldn't help but be surprised.

"The Painted Lady? That scroll must be ancient. And boring." He rifled through her hoard of scrolls, which was composed mainly of Fire Nation lore, and found the one he was looking for. "Here, the Blue Spirit is infinitely more interesting," he smirked. Katara looked skeptical, but accepted the scroll nonetheless.

Their fingers brushed for just an instant, but it was like she had shot lightning into his veins. He fought the urge to jerk his hand back, because clearly she was unfazed by it, but he rubbed his fingers together to dispel the tingling sensation.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. Maybe one day you can tell me what you think of the Blue Spirit." His voice was dry now, but it was a subtly Katara failed to pick up. She nodded without looking at him, intent on her new reading material.

When the door shut behind him, Zuko inspected his fingers carefully. No sign of anything unusual. It was all in his head, then. Giving himself a shake, he headed back to his office to tackle the never-ending stack of paperwork. At least he had the small victory of her smile today, and that was enough.

He would make her happy again.

He would fix her.