Author's Note: This one was... tricky. I tried to pick a logical course of thinking for someone as generally responsible as Katara. I believe that she had feelings for him, they have sweet little hints here and there throughout the series. Writing her realization was a challenge. Ok, read, let me know what you think! Thank you for coming! The final three (2 chapters and an epilogue) will be coming soon! ATLA owned by MDD and BK

After: The Day of Black Sun

Katara sat wedged between The Duke and Toph, cramped among the survivors that now occupied Appa's saddle after their disastrous defeat in the Fire Nation. So many people had been lost; those that weren't left on the battlefield were being taken to Fire Nation prisons. Tears would come later, she was certain, but right now, all she felt was a smoldering rage. They had planned this siege to the minute. The brightest minds who were still free to openly oppose Fire Lord Ozai had stood beside them, her father included. And now, they were Ozai's prisoners.

She felt as though she could rip the Fire Nation palace apart stone by stone, she was so furious. How had the Fire Nation known they were coming? It was the most prevalent question among those who dared to speak as they fled on Appa's back. Sokka had a theory; at the Fall of Ba Sing Se, they had discovered Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee masquerading as Kyoshi warriors. Before the eclipse, they had believed that no one had ever mentioned the attack to the girls, but they must have spent more time with Earth King Kuei than Sokka thought. Kuei, or one of his advisors, or perhaps Long Feng himself, must have told Azula about their plans.

And their warriors paid the price on the battlefield. She knew Sokka was beating himself up about it; he blamed himself for the failure. He was leaning on Toph's right side, a defeated expression on his face. Katara wished she could comfort him, but that wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with an audience.

Katara wasn't in the right mind-set to do that right now, anyway. Her anger still burned its way through her like a white hot needle, singing and chafing everything it touched. She knew that the Fire Nation was a formidable opponent for a multitude of reasons, but she just couldn't fathom how, after all their planning, all their hard work, and all their preparation, the 'bad guys' could still be winning. The Fire Lord and his crazy son and daughter were evil; even their own subjects were subjugated and oppressed. And yet still, every time Aang and the rest of the world tried to do the right thing, it came at a terrible cost, if it was successful at all.

"Can you switch spots with me, Katara?" asked The Duke, interrupting her thoughts. "The wind is blowing around in my helmet and making a weird whistling noise."

She almost snapped at The Duke to take his helmet off, but she realized switching places with him would allow her to stretch her legs out a bit, as well as bring her closer to Aang, who sat between Appa's horns as he guided them to the Western Air Temple. After the complex series of yoga poses it took for them to switch places amongst Appa's crowded patrons, The Duke sat next to Toph, and she finally settled against Appa's saddle, her eyes trained on Aang's back.

He sat stiffly. He looks uncomfortable, she thought, and she realized how miserable he must be. He had pinned so many of their hopes and dreams of ending the war today, and to have it snatched away like that…

Fury flooded her, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. She needed to think about something else. She cast around in her mind, looking for a subject that didn't immediately infuriate her, but nothing came to mind. Resting her head on her palm, she stared sullenly at Aang as he snapped Appa's reins, leading Appa left. Dimly, she became aware of the deep red scratches that scored Aang's bare shoulder, dried blood staining his skin and robes. Katara realized that, in their haste to leave, she hadn't gotten the chance to check him over following his fight with Azula. She had done a once-over on Sokka and Toph during their cramped flight westward, but Aang had immediately removed himself from the group and sat in isolation. He was upset, she understood, and he was also the only one who knew where they were going. But still, she needed to check him. Those cuts looked painful.

Grabbing her water bag, she slowly rose to her feet, trying to keep balance as Appa's weight shifted slightly. She stepped over the low saddle wall and slid down Appa's steep back to join Aang where he sat.

"Hey," she said softly, touching his shoulder to let him know she was there.

"Hey," he mumbled back.

"Sokka and Toph told me about your fight with Azula and the Dai Lee. You have some cuts on your shoulder. Do they hurt?"

He shrugged, eyes forward. "I haven't noticed. I didn't exactly check myself over."

"Let me," she said.

He nodded his acquiescence, and she pulled the cap from her water bag, guiding the water out smoothly.

"A couple of these are pretty deep. I need to heal them," she told him, her voice clinical.

She brought the water to her hands, imbuing it with her power, and it shined with a cold light. Laying her hands softly on his back, she guided the water between the torn layers of skin and muscle, moving him occasionally to shift the muscles this way and that, feeling his flesh knit slowly back together.

"There," she said, finishing. "Anywhere else?"

"I don't know yet, I'm sorry. I'm having trouble focusing right now, Katara." His voice was gentle, but it was clear he didn't want to talk anymore.

She sighed. "I can go, if you want. If you need space."

He turned to her sharply, and she drew in a startled breath. His face was so close to hers, she could count every one of his eyelashes. She could see the intricate patterns in the gray of his eyes. Their noses almost brushed.

"Don't go," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper above the wind. "I don't really want to talk about it yet, but… stay with me."

She nodded mutely, and he turned his eyes back to the horizon.

With his attention drawn elsewhere, she released a pent-up breath. The siege, capture of their forces, and subsequent escape had accounted for the entirety of her attention span over the past few hours, but this quiet moment, and Aang's close proximity to her, brought crashing back what had happened on the submersible, before they had gone their separate ways.

One moment, he had brought up the possibility that he wouldn't return from the siege, a prospect too painful for her to even consider, and the next, his hand was on her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

Their kiss in the Cave of Two Lovers had been the softest brushing of lips, for the barest of moments. It had been her idea, one she later explained away as fear-driven. She had chalked the warm bubble she had felt growing in her chest up to their relief at finding their way out of those caves.

That warm feeling had returned with a vengeance, exploding in her chest, burning its way from her heart down to her fingers and toes the moment he brought his mouth to hers on the submersible. His lips had been firm but gentle, and the feeling of them on hers had brought to the surface emotions that she had been struggling for months to tame. They had wrestled free of her careful control, careening their way through the carefully placed bars she had put between Aang, her best friend, and the Aang who held her when she cried, who flashed her favorite lopsided smile, whose hand fit in hers as perfectly as their lips fit together now.

And then he had left, a look of determination on his face as he glided away from her, into danger. She had watched him go, swept under by a torrent of feelings that she had thought were buried deep within her. Sokka had called her to order, and then she hadn't been able to think about it since.

Now, it seemed, she had nothing but time. She was seized by the memory of the look in his eyes when he pulled her close to him. Her heart pounded. So what was he to her, now?

For months, especially since the fall of Ba Sing Se, Katara had been battling a series feelings that each left her more confused than the last. Fear, protectiveness, possessiveness, apprehension, and above all, love. That was the most confusing feeling of all. She knew she loved him- but she couldn't explain in what way. Or maybe, she didn't want to. It felt so much safer to believe that she loved him as her best friend more than anything else. Their friendship had started with him as her goofy friend, one she checked up on and took care of, much the way she did for Sokka. But things had shifted of their own volition. The hugs she gave so freely took on a different meaning, lingered a little longer, held on a little tighter. Warm pecks on the cheek became softer. His hand in hers was no longer a method to get him to follow her; now they held on as if they couldn't let go.

If there wasn't a war going on, it would be simple. She would have followed her heart, the way she always did. It was what led her to him in the first place.

But there was a war, and Aang had a job to do. So did she. The Siege of the Eclipse had failed; the Fire Lord still reigned over nearly half the world. Was there time for them to figure out their feelings while the whole world was in chaos? It felt… selfish. Aang was still mastering Earthbending, and he hadn't even started on Firebending. He still had to defeat the Fire Lord. There wasn't time for him to lose focus.

She shifted her weight, shoulder brushing Aang's as she tucked her legs under her. We can't. I can't, she thought. This war was greater than just the two of them. Even if they could win, there wasn't a guarantee that they would be able to explore the way they felt. The rebuilding and healing of the world would require just as much of the Avatar as the war itself.

Katara almost groaned in frustration. The importance of putting her feelings aside while she helped Aang defeat the Fire Nation battled head to head with the roaring inferno that she felt at the memory of their kiss, of her arms around him, of his soft smile, of his kind heart. The feelings were perfectly matched, balanced on a razor's edge. Thoughts, ideas, and emotions tipped the scale in one direction and then other as easily as the wind changes direction.

"I'm sorry, Katara," Aang said to her, disrupting her thoughts. His eyes were red.

She rested a hand on his arm in comfort.

And within her, the battle raged on.