Author's Note: I'm trying not to make these quite so dark, but... I kind of think that there's no way they weren't dealing with a lot of trauma and PTSD and that's one of the reasons why Aang and Katara work together. They took care of each other. Anyways, read, review, let me know what you think! Thank you for being here. ATLA owned by MDD and BK.

After: The Puppetmaster

Aang woke to the sound of crying. He didn't have to open his eyes to know it was Katara. She was muffling it, trying to hide it from them, but he knew what she sounded like when she was in pain.

He sat up, intending to go to her, but Sokka was there, arms wrapped around his sister, her head leaned against his chest.

"It's okay," Sokka muttered to her, his hand rubbing her back comfortingly. "It'll be alright. Hama is gone; you'll never have to see her again. She can't hurt us."

"I thought she was going to kill Aang," Katara whispered.

Sokka held her tighter. "Me, too," he said quietly. He paused tentatively before asking, "That's not all, is it?

She pulled away from him gently, but refused to meet his eyes. "Can you stay here, with me?" she asked, ignoring his question.

Sokka arched an eyebrow, but didn't press the issue further. "I'll be right back." He dragged his sleeping bag over to hers and settled himself inside it.

"You should talk about it," Aang heard Sokka murmur a few minutes later.

Katara took a long time to answer. "I'm not ready," she finally said.

"I'll be here when you are."

Silence settled between them, and Aang lay back down. Worry gnawed at him. Katara was typically pretty open with her feelings; the fact that she didn't want to talk indicated to Aang that she was barely keeping her head above water. He didn't want to push her, but Aang knew from personal experience that holding on to pain like that was asking for trouble.

Eventually, Sokka's light snoring lulled his eyes closed, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, a tense mood permeated the camp as they ate breakfast. They were still exhausted from their ordeal with Hama, and Toph, Aang, and Sokka were walking on eggshells around Katara. She ate wordlessly, her expression blank, and rewarded those who spoke to her with monosyllabic responses. When she finished eating, she began absentmindedly gathering her bowl and cup for cleaning.

"I can do that, Katara," Toph cut in.

Aang and Sokka stared at her. Toph hated doing the dishes. It was usually a struggle to get her to clean her own dinnerware, let alone someone else's. But if Katara heard Toph, she didn't indicate it, instead continuing to the little creek nearby.

"Dang," Toph muttered, disappointed. "I thought that would get a response out of her, for sure."

Sokka smirked in response. "It surprised me."

"Ha ha," Toph snapped.

"I'd feel better if you did my dishes."

"I can't," said Toph, crossing her arms. "I'm blind."

Aang grabbed up his bowl and cup and left the two of them to their bickering. He crossed to where Katara knelt to wash out her wares in the running water.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

She shrugged.

He went to his knees beside her, bending water into his bowl and cup and swirling it around. Aang peeked at Katara from the corner of his eye. She bent her water thoughtlessly, distractedly. Dark circles hung below her eyes, and a furrow peaked between her two brows. Aang watched as her expression slowly shifted from blank to confusion to irritation.

Finally, without looking at him, she murmured, "I'm not made of glass, Aang. I won't break."

"I don't think you're made of glass," he said, taken aback.

"Then why are you looking at me like I'm about to fall apart?" she answered, her frustration evident. "I'm fine; I'll get over it."

"Katara, you've barely said two sentences since last night. You're hurting. Let us help you," he pleaded.

Her shoulders tensed visibly. "I don't need help. I just need time."

"Didn't you say that I should let you guys help me after I woke up after Ba Sing Se? It's good advice, Katara. You should follow it." He set his hand on her shoulder gently.

She shook it off. "And didn't you tell me that that was something you needed to do on your own?" Her voice rose. "And then you left in the middle of a storm while you were still recovering from a lightning strike! But I don't talk to you guys for a few hours, and all of the sudden I'm the one who needs to let other people help them?"

Aang eyebrows raised. "Hold on, we were talking about you, and the fact that you're clearly upset about what happened with Hama. We can talk about… that other thing… another time, but you need to talk about this."

Katara threw her cup and bowl to the ground. "Obviously I'm upset about what happened with Hama! But I'll get over it if you just leave me alone!"

He took a deep breath, trying to maintain a calm composure. "You're not just upset, Katara, you were crying all night. You were forced to do something that you had a strong moral opposition to; that's bound to leave a wound. Let it out, so it can heal. The monks used to say-"

"Oh yea?" she snarled. "What did 'the monks used to say'? What did they used to say about reaching inside Hama and feeling her heartbeat, her blood pumping, her muscles spasming while I forced her to stop moving so that she didn't murder you?" Her fists clenched in her lap, and the creek started moving away from them in ripples and waves, as if pushed by an angry force.

"What did they say about the way I stripped her willpower from her?" she continued. "What did they say about the way that I wanted to kill her for trying to kill you, and what did they say about the way I could have? For that matter, what did they say about the fact that we are the last two Waterbenders from the Southern Water Tribe, and she should have become my greatest and most trusted mentor. Instead she tried to kill you and my brother!"

Aang sat silently, unsure of what to say.

But Katara barely took note of him, and continued to rant, her voice edging on hysterical. "Did the monks say anything about any of that? Do they have any poetically worded advice on how to deal with this situation? Because I don't know how to feel about it. I'm feeling everything at once."

He turned his bowl over in his hands. "Do you regret it?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know!" she cried. She crossed her arms over her stomach, curling inward on herself. Her voice dropped to a low, distressed murmur. "I don't know… You would have died. It would have been like Ba Sing Se, only I don't know if I would have been able to save you. I stopped it because I… I can't feel that way again. Not ever."

Her head was turned away from him, so she didn't see the look in his eyes. She didn't see the way his eyes burned for her.

"I would do it again, if I had to," she whispered after a moment, more for herself than for him. Her voice grew louder. "But I hated it. It was sick, and disgusting… and I hope I never have to do it again."

"You won't," he promised.

She turned back to him, her eyes stricken. "But I know how to do it, now. If something like this happens again, how can I stop myself from using it? She knew me, Aang. She knew I would bloodbend to save you. She knew how I would feel afterward. And she was right."

"Katara, she wasn't right, she was manipulative. She left you no choice. Can an action be right or wrong if there is no alternative?"

"Maybe I could have found a different way to stop her, but I still used bloodbending. How am I any different from her?" she asked softly.

She sounded so lost. Aang wanted to pull her to him, to hold her in his arms, but he knew she that wasn't what she needed. She needed to see what he saw. She needed to understand.

"You're nothing like her, and you never will be. She was using it to harm people, Katara. You only used it as a last resort in order to save me," he reminded her gently.

It worked, somewhat. Her hands relaxed in her lap, and the creek which had writhed before them, reacting to her anger, returned to its smooth and unhurried state as it meandered past them.

"What a fine line to walk," she muttered.

He gave her a shy smile. "Good thing you have such good balance."

She tried to hide her smile, but she couldn't. Aang caught the way her furrowed brow relaxed, and the way the corner of her lips tilted upward ever so slightly.

"That's a terrible joke," she said.

"But you smiled," he answered, giving her a lopsided grin.

She immediately pursed her lips back into a frown, but he could see the danger was past. He took advantage of her calmer demeanor to explain his perspective.

"I know you, Katara," Aang started. "Better than Hama ever could. Having things in common with her doesn't make you the same person as her. It isn't in her to help people, the way you do. You were put on this world to make a difference for the better. You've made mistakes, but I don't think that this was one of them. What happened was… terrible. But in the end, you didn't just save me; you saved all the people Hama has terrorized, and you did it by doing what your instinct told you was the right thing to do. How can one ask for anything more? All we can ever do is the right thing, and sort out the details later." He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "I'm thankful that you did what you did, although I'm sorry for what its cost you."

He sat patiently, waiting for her to speak, but no response was forthcoming. "If it weren't for you, I would have died. But I just want you to know- the only thought I had as it was happening was that I…" he broke off.

His cheeks were tinged a furious pink, and he looked everywhere but in her eyes. Was he ready to tell her that?

Aang was sure Toph could hear his heart pounding across the camp. The last thought he'd had before he would have been impaled by Sokka's space sword was that he loved Katara. If he'd had time to shout it to her, he might have. But this wasn't a life-or-death situation, anymore. This was the two of them, alone, sharing this moment and supporting each other in it, because that was what they did. He was convinced that there would never be a time in his life when he didn't need her. And right now, she needed him. But not that way. The words 'I love you' sat poised on the tip of his tongue, but when she gave him a look that silently asked if he was going to continue, he realized that now was not the time to say it. This wasn't about him. 'I love you' was going to have to wait.

"The last thought I had was that I'm glad I met you. If I had died right then, there isn't anything I would change," he said finally. "I knew you were going to save me, though, so-"

He didn't finish the sentence, brought up short by the look on her face. She leaned in, and his heart began to pound even faster. He thought she was going to kiss him, but she turned her head at the last minute, her lips touching his cheek softly.

"I'm glad I met you, too," she said.