Water

Reunited

Sokka had questions.

At least a thousand of them, if he had to guess. In fact, he was half inclined to start writing them all down so he could get a better count. And so he wouldn't forget any of them.

Of course he was grateful to have Katara back. He kept checking every few seconds to make sure that she was really there. That they'd really found her.

But almost as soon as they'd lifted off the ground, she'd curled up on her side, Momo snuggled tight to her chest, and dropped off to sleep. And while Sokka wasn't mean enough to try and wake her—he'd even gone so far as to pull out her sleeping bag and cover her up as well as he could—he was a little annoyed.

He had questions. He couldn't just forget that his little sister had been kidnapped for weeks, had somehow escaped, and none of it with any explanation. He had to know these things.

It was strange enough that she was claiming that she hadn't blown up the ship. It was much weirder that she wouldn't talk about what had caused it to explode. Or what had happened to her while she was on the ship. Or how she'd escaped. Or how Zuko had escaped. Or why she was wearing unfamiliar clothes through all of it.

Or, probably most importantly, why in the world she'd sounded relieved about Zuko being alive. That was not a good thing. Zuko was a no-good, firebending, sister-stealer. It didn't even matter that he was fun to yell at. Katara of all people ought to know that it couldn't be a good thing that he was still alive.

Or maybe she did. Maybe Sokka had gotten it all twisted up, and Katara was actually relieved to be away from Zuko. Or maybe she just sounded relieved by contrast. She had been crying a lot.

Yeah, that made a lot more sense. Which was good, because almost nothing else did.

He looked over at her again, at the scorched and stained edge of a green sleeve poking out from under her sleeping bag and the slightly grimy, unruly hair poking out at all angles from her braid. What had happened to her? There was really no good reason for her to wear Earth Kingdom clothes, unless it was supposed to be a disguise to blend in at a village, but where could she have possibly found them? A Fire Nation ship wouldn't have something like that, much less anything close to Katara's size. Unless they had a disguise closet or something.

Huh. That was a good idea. If Sokka ever got a ship, he was going to put in a disguise closet.

But still. The firebenders wouldn't have any use for girls' clothes. And considering all the scorch marks along the seams, she couldn't have gotten the clothes anywhere else. Not unless she'd run back into the flames after the ship blew up, and Katara wouldn't do anything like that. Probably.

But wherever she'd gotten them, Katara hadn't seemed too keen to get rid of the Earth Kingdom clothes. That was weird for her. Katara was normally the cleanest out of all of them, and even though her clothes were all stained, she hadn't gone out of her way to change. All of her things were right where she'd left them too. It wasn't like she couldn't have changed into clean clothes if she'd chosen to. Well, relatively clean clothes. Zuko had dumped them all out in the road, and Sokka had never thought to clean the dirt out after Aang gathered them back up. That still would have been better than what she was wearing now, though.

Maybe it was just tiredness. Katara had been leaning on Sokka pretty hard, and she did lie down and fall asleep right after they lifted off the ground. Maybe she was so tired that she just didn't care about her clothes being dirty.

But then why was she so tired? The nearest thing Sokka had ever seen was when she went into the Avatar State, but she seemed almost more tired now, and yet she insisted that the explosion wasn't her doing, and— ugh.

Sokka rubbed his forehead. That settled it. He couldn't afford to drive himself crazy asking the same questions over and over again. Clearly, he'd have to take the direct approach and ask Katara.

He scooched a little closer and poked Katara in the shoulder. "Katara. Hey, Katara. Wakey-wakey."

Her arm swung back and smacked across his neck.

Owwwww. Sokka fell back against the mound of supplies, gagging from the blow. Whatever was wrong with her obviously hadn't affected her arm. Had she been practicing for that or something?

Once he'd regained his composure enough to sit up, he leaned over Katara again, arm crooked to shield his neck. Hmm. She was still snuggled up, fast asleep.

He could deal with that. This time, he'd take the subtle approach.

"Sokka, what are you doing?" Aang hissed back at him from his place on Appa's neck.

Sokka froze in place, his hand still poised to flick her in the ear. "Waking Katara up." Wasn't that obvious?

"But why?"

"Because we just got her back and I barely got to ask her anything."

Aang frowned. "I don't think she's going to want to talk to you if you wake her up."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Maybe because she punched you in the throat?"

Sokka scowled. That was not a punch. It was a slap. If even that. Actually, he didn't think it counted as a slap either, since she was asleep the whole time.

"She seems really tired," Aang said, turning forward again. "I think we should let her sleep. She's safe now. It's not like we can't ask about everything when she wakes up.

Aang jumped down to the ground, tunic fluttering, and Sokka hesitated a moment in the saddle. He could wake Katara up. That would probably be the easiest. He couldn't exactly leave her to sleep in the saddle all night, not when Appa tended to roll onto his side when he fell asleep. But after a second of thought, Sokka decided against that. If he wasn't going to wake her up to ask questions, he couldn't exactly justify waking her up to tell her to sleep somewhere else either. Besides, he didn't savor the idea of being punched in the neck again.

Instead, he scooped Katara up. He was a big, strong manly man, and he didn't stumble or come close to dropping her on his way to the ground. No one saw that, so it didn't count. He settled her, sleeping bag and all, a few paces away from Appa, then sprawled his own sleeping bag out right beside her.

If he managed to sleep—which he doubted—he was going to be within arm's reach all night long.

She couldn't tell whether the snoring or the sunrise struck her first. Probably both. At exactly the same time.

Katara turned her head away from the sun, and when she pried her eyes open, she found Sokka's face just a few inches away, snoring loudly and breathing stinky morning breath all over her. Yuck. She sat and rubbed her eyes. It was no wonder she'd woken up. Actually, it was a wonder she hadn't woken sooner. Between the sun and the snoring and the stinky breath, she should have jumped out of her sleeping bag hours ago.

Yawning, she wriggled her way out of her sleeping bag. A small part of her was grateful to be awake before the boys. She didn't know exactly where they were, and it was oddly disorienting to be out in the open again. It felt weird. Not good, not bad, just weird.

Well— good. It was definitely good to be back with them, but weird all the same.

She squinted around the campsite, at Aang curled up on Appa's tail, and Sokka laying flat on his back, arms splayed out to the sides. It was almost too normal. Aside from the fact that she still wore her Earth Kingdom outfit, with all its stains and scorch marks, there was nothing to show that she'd ever been gone. Well, nothing aside from the heaviness in her limbs and the slight disorganization in the stack of supplies in Appa's saddle.

It made sense, she knew. Though it felt like an eternity, she'd really only been gone for a few weeks. That was nothing. It wasn't like Sokka and Aang would have left anything behind in that amount of time. They'd just been traveling like normal, chasing Zuko's ship rather than being chased themselves. A few weeks wouldn't change much for them.

A few weeks on a Fire Nation ship, though, that changed things. Weeks of learning new names, faces, routines, that made everything different. How was she supposed to fall back into this kind of normalcy after being on Zuko's ship? After going from terror and mistrust to mild annoyance to—whatever she'd felt when they faced Zhao. Allegiance, almost. How could she act normal when nothing felt normal anymore?

It was all Zuko's fault. He was the one who'd taken her away. He was the one who kept her away. And he was the one who'd made everything complicated.

Katara leaned up against Appa's side and slid a bit closer to the ground as she felt for her necklace. Zuko was the one who'd gone out of his way to make it all bearable. The big jerk hadn't even tried to take credit for most of it, and she almost wished he had. It would have made more sense if he'd tried to shove it all back in her face to get her to cooperate. But he hadn't. The worst he'd done was yell back when she was angry at him.

And then there was yesterday.

If you want me to believe that you're better, you have to prove it.

She slid the rest of the way down and buried her face in her hands. He'd proven it. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't a shadow of a doubt that Zuko was better than most of them. But exactly how much better? Being better than most firebenders didn't take very much. Nearly dying to keep her safe—that didn't outweigh enough to make him good, did it?

It couldn't. He was a firebender, after all.

You are too, a voice in her head reminded her. The general was right. You're more like him than you think.

With a groan, Katara pushed herself up. That was enough of that. She hadn't listened to the general's nonsense when she saw him every day, and she wasn't going to start now that his words were nothing more than echoes in her mind.

If she wanted things to go back to normal, maybe she had to pretend that they already were normal. Maybe if she did a good enough job of pretending, she could fool Sokka and Aang. And maybe if she convinced them that everything was normal again, she'd eventually start to believe it too.

Jaw set in determination, she clambered up one of Appa's big, wooly legs and rifled through the supplies until she found her pack. She tried not to notice the harsh, clean slices through the straps, tried not to remember when Zuko had cut the pack off of her and slung her over his shoulder like a sack. The whole point of this was to stop thinking about Zuko.

She rustled through the pack until she managed to produce a clean tunic and leggings. Well, somewhat clean. Bits of sand and dried leaves and dust spilled out when she unfolded the tunic, and she made a face. Had Sokka dumped a whole bucket of dirt into her clothes?

Making a face, she shook out as much dust as she could before she dropped back to the ground and hid behind Appa. Dusty or not, she had to change. If she wanted to stop thinking about Zuko, she couldn't keep wearing the clothes he'd given her. It was as simple as that. She had to push him as far out of her mind as possible, and if that meant that she had to wash all her clothes the next time they stopped, she could handle that.

Doing her own laundry might even be nice. She hadn't had a chance to try waterbending properly in ages. There was no reason she couldn't practice and wash her clothes.

Once she'd changed, Katara sat on the ground again, her back resting against Appa's warm side. She felt like sleeping again. There was probably time. She hadn't heard either of the boys stirring yet, and she still had no desire to wake them. Talking seemed like too much effort, and if the boys were awake, they'd undoubtedly have questions. And answering questions was exactly the opposite of pretending that things were normal.

She opened her eyes a slit and found the Earth Kingdom outfit lying where she'd let it fall. She should probably get rid of it. Without the clothes, there would be one less thing to remind her how different everything felt now. One less thing to make her think about Zuko.

But—she stretched forward and ran her thumb along the scorched, tattered hem. She wasn't sure she wanted to get rid of them. She could pretend all she liked for the boys' sake, but nothing was the same anymore. Even if she figured out how to act normal again, she was never going to forget that. Everything Zuko had done, good or bad, was engrained in her memory.

Her hands tightened around the tunic, squeezing it smaller and smaller. If she couldn't forget what had happened, if she was going to be stuck with the memory of Zuko grabbing her hand, shielding her from the flames, and nearly dying for his trouble, then why shouldn't she have something to remember it by? Something to prove that it was all real, that those memories had come from somewhere, even if she could never speak about them again? If she got rid of the outfit, there wouldn't be much left to prove that she wasn't crazy.

Maybe she needed to compromise. Maybe that was it. If she could tuck the memories away, bury them along with the discolored green cloth at the bottom of her pack, maybe she could manage a return to normalcy. If she could forget what had happened for a little while, maybe it would make more sense when she finally came back to it.

Or maybe she was just lying to herself.

Fixing her face into a frown, she stood and shook the dust and dirt out of the Earth Kingdom clothes and folded them as small and neat as she could. For now, she was in no fit state of mind to make a decision like that. She'd keep the clothes. At least for a little while

Muscles aching again, she climbed back into the saddle, stuffed the Earth Kingdom clothes into the bottom of her pack, and slid down Appa's other side. Then, before she had time to second-guess herself, she pulled her sleeping bag a few inches farther from Sokka's stinky snoring and crawled back inside. Another hour or two of sleep couldn't hurt. If she was lucky, things might be a little clearer when she woke up.

Everything hurt.

Zuko really shouldn't have been surprised about that. His memory was hazy and fragmented, but between the bits he could remember—running with Katara, a blast, then flames, so many flames—the pain made sense. If anything, he should have been surprised that he was still around to feel the pain.

"Please rest, Prince Zuko. You were badly hurt yesterday. I do not wish to see you do yourself any further harm."

Yesterday? He would have thought that it had been longer.

Zuko ignored Uncle's warning and sat up. That was a mistake. His chest erupted with agony. Stifling a cry, he wrapped an arm around his middle and clenched his jaw until it faded enough for him to turn and let his legs dangle off the edge of the bunk. His vision swam, his head throbbed, and he let his shoulders hunch as he tried to steady his breathing.

He was fine. He wasn't a child. He could handle a little pain.

Besides, there were too many things that didn't make sense. Like the fact that he remembered being with Katara. He remembered pushing her out of the way moments before he was blasted off the deck, then falling toward the heavy, dark water, then—her eyes. Just her eyes, two flashes of blue, and nothing else, not where he was, not how he'd gotten there, and not how he'd ended up here with Uncle. On a ship again. Like none of it had ever happened.

Painful or not, he had to find answers. He had to know why so much of his memory was missing, why it looked like the explosion never happened when he had the injuries to prove that it had. And he couldn't do any of that if he kept lying around.

Uncle made a noise of dismay and clutched Zuko by the shoulders, holding him steady as he started to list to the side.

Zuko didn't care. "Where are we, Uncle?" he asked, his voice more hoarse than usual.

Uncle shook his head and pressed a cup into Zuko's hands. "If you won't rest, at least drink this."

It took a few blinks before his eyes focused on the teacup. "What is that?"

"For the pain."

Tea? For pain? Zuko wasn't sure that was a real thing.

"Are you trying to put me back to sleep?"

Uncle frowned, holding his shoulder tighter. "I certainly wouldn't mind if it helped you rest, but no."

Zuko tried to scowl, but that made his head hurt worse, and he took a sip. "Where are we?"

"On Admiral Zhao's ship."

Zuko choked on his second sip and coughed long and hard to expel the tea from his lungs. Ouch. His ribs had to be broken. "Zhao's ship?" he finally managed to croak.

Uncle nodded and sat beside him on the bunk, still holding him by the shoulders. Which seemed unnecessary to Zuko. He wasn't that unsteady.

"It seems the admiral was in desperate need of advice on siege warfare. And considering the circumstances, he was kind enough to grant poor, grieving General Iroh a private cabin to mourn while we make our way north."

Of course. Of course Zhao wouldn't waste any time moving on after blowing up Zuko's ship.

Wait, there was something wrong with what Uncle had said. What was it?

"Does Zhao think I'm dead?"

"It was not a difficult conclusion to reach."

He supposed not. He definitely remembered thinking that he was going to die.

"How did you get me onto Zhao's ship if he thinks I'm dead?"

"Ah. I believe you are well acquainted with my fondness for Earth Kingdom trinkets and curiosities. In times of great distress, there is often nothing better than browsing a shop for interesting items." Uncle paused. "It just so happens that I was able to find a rather lovely ornamental chest in Weiji."

"You put me in a box?"

"I could see no other option, Prince Zuko. You were badly hurt, and Zhao was eager to leave."

Zuko could think of at least one other option. Not sticking him in a box while he was unconscious.

"It worked quite well," Uncle continued. "Though it passed directly under his nose, Zhao took no notice of the chest."

Zuko tried to scowl again, but his head throbbed, and he swayed violently. Ugh. He couldn't even be properly grumpy without causing himself pain.

Uncle steadied him, and Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. He felt miserable, and for a moment, he almost wanted to take Uncle's advice and lie back down. Almost. He let his weight rest against Uncle's side for a moment before he opened his eyes and did his best to straighten.

"Does anyone know I'm here?"

Uncle shook his head. "No one."

Zuko's hands clenched around the teacup, and a deep feeling of unease settled into his stomach. "So—they all think I'm dead?"

"It seemed safest to allow them to draw their own conclusions."

Right. The details were still fuzzy in his head, but Zuko could be certain about one thing. He hadn't imagined the smell of blasting jelly.

"Zhao did this," Zuko said quietly.

"He was quite insistent on referring to yesterday's events as an accident."

To his surprise, it almost sounded like Uncle was agreeing. Zuko stared. Wasn't Uncle usually all about believing the best of people? When had Zhao become an exception to that rule?

"That," Uncle added delicately, "was why I thought it best to keep your presence a secret. I have the admiral's permission to seclude myself for several days to mourn. In that time, I hope we may gain a better idea of how to proceed."

That word struck him again, harder than the first time. Mourn.

"Uncle—did you think I was—"

If he didn't know better, Zuko would think that Uncle's eyes were teary at the edges. The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Uncle patted Zuko's arm with the other.

Oh. Zuko had to look away, and he found himself watching the lazy steam still rising off the cup in his hands. He'd believed that he was going to die, but it had never occurred to him that anyone would notice. That anyone would care. Even Uncle.

"How did you find me?"

At that, Uncle's sorrowful expression lightened just a fraction. "For that, I must thank Avatar Katara."

Zuko's brow furrowed for a second before his head throbbed again. Katara? What had she done? He remembered seeing her at some point between the explosion and Zhao's ship, but how? Had they been on dry land by then? Had she brought him there? If she had, how? She was so much smaller than him, and probably not the strongest swimmer, considering where she'd grown up. But how else could he have gotten to shore? That part of his memory was just—blank. Someone must have taken him to shore, but why would Katara—

He wanted to ask Uncle. He always seemed to understand things better than Zuko did, but there were too many questions, too many answers that Uncle couldn't possibly know.

He asked the only question he could think of. "Katara was okay?"

Uncle nodded. "I saw her only briefly, but she appeared unharmed. Very tired, but unharmed."

Zuko let out a sigh, and his shoulders slumped forward just a bit. Good. He didn't know why he was so relieved to hear it. Probably just because he'd risked his life to get her out. Probably because it would have been too much effort for nothing if anything had happened to her.

Uncle squeezed his shoulder one more time. "May I ask something, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko nodded.

"When did you begin calling her Katara?"

Author's Note:

Look at these kiddos having feelings they don't know how to deal with! I hated splitting them up, but y'know... when they're both this preoccupied with thinking about each other, I think it's worthwhile. They need time to deal with their conflicted feelings (or try not to deal with them). Also, Iroh being all... intrigued when he realizes that Zuko is consistently using Katara's name now made me smile so much while I was writing this.

Anyway. Updates! Weekly updates have been amazing, but I have no self control and I signed up for the Zutara Big Bang as a writer. And a mod. And a beta. And two artists. And me being me, my BB fic (which was only required to be 10k words long total) is around 15k so far and less than a third of the way done. So... in the interest of not completely losing my marbles (and not putting Ice Smoke on hiatus until June) while I try to get that fic and all my other event obligations ready to go, I'm going to have to slow updates back down after the end of February. I'll have to see how much my brain melts by the time March gets here, but I think updates every other week will be doable.

In the meantime, look out for Chapter 38 next week! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, feel free to visit me on Tumblr (soopersara), and I know it's still months away, but get ready for a flood of amazing Zutara content from the Big Bang in June!