disclaimer: i don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender
TW: semi-graphic injury description, the section containing said description has a line of bolded equal signs before and after, keep an eye out for those if you want to skip
don't leave me
chapter 6: stream of consciousness
"How does a missing ostrich horse have anything to do with the Fire Lord?!" Sokka asked, looking at a letter from a clearly distressed noblewoman.
Iroh chuckled, knowing that Sokka was very much enjoying helping with Zuko's work, although some of the requests he received were nothing less than absurd. "Such is the way of people with power… I believe the letter is from Madam Feng?" Sokka nodded and Iroh sighed. "The Feng's named one of their ostrich horses after each member of the immediate royal family. They slaughtered Ozai and Azula's, so now any problem with Zuko's ostrich horse gets mixed in with the Fire Lord's official work. And believe me, that ought to be one of the most troubled ostrich horses in the whole Fire Nation!"
"Bu- but that doesn't even-" Sokka sputtered, "Ugh! Rich people!" He threw the letter onto the floor and Iroh chucked again at his antics. "Thank goodness Katara and I aren't rich. She'd be throwing money all over the place!"
At his words, both of the men glanced at Katara. Her wounds, while less severe than they had been, still sent shivers down both of their spines. An internal burn had appeared on her skin throughout her time in the medical wing, and while Rikun said it was expected, it was still hard to look at. Sokka had been by her side since she screamed, and Iroh had come in after his discussion with Zuko, carrying a stack of paperwork. They had dismissed the nurses and guards, promising to call for them if anything happened. While they were useful, they only got in the way, and Iroh and Sokka needed a quiet place to work. After moving to the two beds next to Katara, they had been sifting through each piece of paper, filing through various reports, letters, and complaints.
Ozai had hired scribes and secretaries to take care of most of his paperwork, only contributing to the ones that needed his seal or signature. However, Zuko and Iroh both knew that many of the people working at the palace were still loyal to Ozai, and no one could be trusted without proper screening. That left all of the work to fall on the Fire Lord at the present moment.
Iroh smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I believe you would be the more troublesome, seeing as you cannot go without meat for more than a few hours," he remarked.
"I can!" Sokka retorted.
Iroh raised an eyebrow and gestured at the plate of leftovers Sokka had ordered be brought to the medical wing. Sokka grumbled something about unappreciative vegans and grabbed the last paper, his face showing concern as he read it.
"Hey, Iroh, what do you know about the NOS? It's showed up in a few letters and I don't know what it means. Do you?" Sokka asked.
Iroh sighed. "I wish I didn't. NOS stands for the New Ozai Society," he said, "It is composed of a group of government officials and politicians who wish to have Ozai back on the throne."
"These must also be the people who gained quite a bit of money from the war, right?"
"That is correct. What have the papers mentioning them said?"
"The ones I read before were just wondering what to do about them. They were mostly from military generals who were asking if they should engage them or not. But… this one," Sokka gestured to the one he was holding, "this one's from the New Ozai Society, or someone involved in it."
Katara whimpered and Iroh and Sokka whipped around to face her, but she remained asleep and Iroh's face grew concerned again. "Read it to me," he instructed.
Sokka nodded and read the letter, which said:
Prince Zuko
You are not fit to be a prince, let alone the Fire Lord. Release Ozai from prison and return him to the throne.
NOS
"That's it?" Iroh asked.
"Mhm. Do they really think we're just going to release Ozai like that?"
"Most likely not. I'm afraid they will continue to send letters like this, if not the exact same one repeatedly. For now, we should be thankful this is all they do. Although, we must be ready for a revolt. I am going to see if someone remembers where this letter came from." Sokka offered the letter to Iroh and he took it. "Would you like to join me, Sword Master Sokka?"
Sokka smiled at the name. "Nah, I'm good. I'll stay here."
"Very well." With that, Iroh walked out of the room.
Sokka looked at Katara for a few moments, regretting once again that he wasn't able to protect her. After organizing the looked-at documents into a pile and placing them on a bedside table, he grabbed the top one, double-checking to make sure Iroh and he had gone through them all thoroughly enough. Slowly, his eyelids began to droop, and Sokka unknowingly gave in to the sweet lull of sleep.
It took everything in Zuko to not run to the medical wing. After Mai's gracious dismissal of him, he could barely contain the excitement of seeing Katara again. But the more he thought about it, the more his excitement turned into dread, and his quick pace slowed.
Do I really want to see what she looks like? Do I want to know what caused everyone to rush to her side? Can I handle the guilt? What if she's… Zuko shook his head to free him from his thoughts. No, he had to see this through. He had waited this whole time to see Katara, and nothing was going to keep him from it.
Quickening his pace once more, Zuko didn't even notice the surprised looks on his servants' and guards' faces as he rushed by. He slowed as he neared the medical wing, coming to a stop in front of its doors.
Just open the door, Zuko. Uncle and Sokka are in there anyway, he told himself.
Zuko took a deep breath and quietly pushed open the doors to the room. He slid behind it and closed the door silently, turning around to face the interior. The first thing he noticed was Sokka snoring on the bed near Katara's with a pile of clearly managed papers on the table next to him. Zuko looked around the room and figured Iroh had left for something reasonable due to Sokka's state.
Of course, Uncle's gone and Sokka's asleep.
Willing his eyes to look down, Zuko hesitantly shifted his gaze to the injured waterbender before him. He let out a sigh, Katara's burn had been bandaged and covered. But Zuko didn't miss a detail and it was fairly obvious that her bandage needed to be changed. There was a faint layer of blood and puss seeping through the cloths and the smell of old blood wafted through the air.
Zuko scrunched his nose and took a tentative step toward Katara, now only inches away from her. He slowly peeled back the edge of her stomach bandage only to realize that it was wrapped around her whole torso. Zuko checked to make sure Sokka was still asleep before sliding his left arm under Katara's lower back and gently lifting her up. He maneuvered his right arm around her torso and undid the first round of her wrapping. He repeated the process a few more times until only the last section of cloth remained. Zuko took another deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. He opened his eyelids and pulled the cloth, surprised when he was met with resistance.
And course, the blood's dried itself between her skin and the bandage, he thought. Had it been anyone else, Zuko would have ripped the bandage off the second he touched it. But the guilt he carried from Katara's wound wouldn't let him even think of such a thing, whether or not he realized it. If Katara was conscious, she would have probably ripped the cloth off herself and scolded me for not doing it sooner. The thought brought a fleeting smile to his face. He was going to have to do it sooner or later. He was the Fire Lord, for crying out loud.
Zuko pulled off the remaining bandage with his eyes closed, trying abundantly hard not to concentrate on the ripping noise it made as it came off. He disposed of the bloodied cloth, surprised and slightly revolted at the amount that was on it.
Zuko looked upon Katara's body, finally taking in the damage his sister had dealt with one of his closest friends. He couldn't stop a gag.
=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=
Two small burn scars were apparent on Katara's right shoulder, fainter than most due to her healing. They were rough and dark red with small transparent bandages on top. Her right arm bore the most obvious mark of the cause of injury, hosting a lightning-shaped internal burn that stretched from her right shoulder to her mid-forearm. Zuko gathered that it must have taken a while to appear, seeing as no one alerted him of it. The mark looked like a tattoo that many people Zuko had met over the years would have gotten, but the origin kept him from deriving any appreciation for the black stain on Katara's arm. It looked as if someone had observed a bolt of lightning and used kohl to paint it on her.
Katara's face was as he had seen it before, although now Zuko was able to observe every detail. Any dirt that had remained from her initial fall had been wiped away by the nurses; however, anything more than that was still present. There was a long gash reaching from the end of her left eyebrow to the bottom of her left jaw. It was red and fresh blood slowly flowed from the open wound onto her cheek. Her lips were swollen and there was a small bruise forming around the right side of her cheek.
Her legs appeared to be perfectly fine, although they looked paler than they should have been in Zuko's opinion.
And then… her stomach. A small bowl-shaped chunk of Katara's abdomen was gone. The deepest part of the burn revealed three of her lowest rib bones, all charred and burned on the end. The muscles immediately surrounding the bones were dark gray, crusty, and wrinkled. Clotted blood was stopped at the edges of them. The muscle above that was a dark red, leaking fresh blood and showing burned ligaments. Her skin immediately surrounding the burn was dark and wrinkled, almost imitating that of a raisin. Bright blood cascaded down various parts of the wound and began to pool near the revealed ribs. The skin around the surrounding burnt epidermis had a leather-like texture, imitating the scar on Zuko's face.
Thick layers of burn salve had been slathered onto all of her burns, emitting a medicinal smell.
=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=TW=
The more Zuko scrutinized the wound, the worse he felt. He had grown up in a war seeing all kinds of injuries, but this was different. Katara's wound was because of him and it was his fault she was almost dead. The pace at which her blood was reappearing didn't help.
He felt his stomach begin to churn and Zuko looked away from her abdomen, letting the rational part of his brain take over. Katara's wounds needed to be dressed. Zuko considered calling in a nurse or doctor but decided against it. He knew how to dress a wound and he felt responsible to at least clean some of Katara's injuries while he could. All thoughts of Mai or Fire Lord left his mind as he looked for supplies.
After searching for a few moments, Zuko found a surplus of white cloths, burn salves, leather straps, and bandages. He picked up all he could in his arms and walked to Katara, setting the items on the unused bedside table.
Zuko took a deep breath and began the dressings. He grabbed one of the cloths and gently prodded away the excess burn salve that was pooling on the burn. After setting it aside, he grabbed another cloth and tentatively dipped it inside the cavity on Katara's stomach. Instantly, red began to seep through the strands of the fabric and Zuko ended up using four cloths to blot the majority of the blood away.
He tried to remember the work he had had done to his face when he was burned but his memory came up short. Regardless, Zuko confidently dipped his fore and middle finger into the burn salve and slathered it onto every part of Katara's abdomen that was affected. He used almost all of the contents of the salve jar by the time he was finished smoothing it on, but he didn't care.
Zuko set the jar aside and grabbed another white cloth. He wiped away the remaining salve in the jar and thoroughly soaked the cloth. Carefully hovering it over the main part of the wound, he placed the white fabric in the deepest part, knowing that it would be Katara's best bet until she was able to heal. He grabbed some long bandages and rewrapped her torso, gently lifting her up and placing her back down again.
Seeing as that was done, Zuko grabbed another cloth and dipped it into a nearby bowl of water. He gently wiped the blood from Katara's cheek, much less worried as he knew head injuries involved a lot of blood to be expelled, often regardless of the severity. Zuko covered it with another bandage and surveyed his work.
While he was no professional, it was enough to keep Katara as clean as possible for a little bit. Zuko nodded to himself and grabbed the remaining medical items he didn't use to put them back where he had found them. He turned around and opened the cabinet with the cloths only to freeze when someone cleared their throat behind them.
The sound of dripping water startled Sokka awake. He jerked his head up, about to give a piece of his mind to the man hovering over his sister when he realized it was Zuko. Confused, Sokka tried to recall what had happened.
Let's see… Iroh left to investigate that NOS letter and I stated her to revise my work, he thought, then glanced down to see said letter resting on his stomach. And I fell asleep. Stupid! Katara could've been hurt. Thank goodness it was only Zuko. But I didn't even hear him come in!
At his thoughts, Sokka looked upon the Fire Lord who was currently cleaning his sister's cheek. The tenderness with which Zuko looked nearly astounded Sokka, having known Zuko as an angsty prince for most of his life. He glanced to her abdomen and raised an eyebrow at the unnaturally white bandages. Based on the fact that Zuko was now cleaning Katara's face, Sokka had an educated guess at who was responsible for her new stomach wrappings.
Seeing that Zuko, who was now putting something away in a cabinet, had somehow not noticed Sokka's consciousness, Sokka cleared his throat. Zuko visibly stiffened and Sokka grinned.
"Hey, Zuko," Sokka said as Zuko turned around.
"Hi, Sokka," Zuko replied.
"So… did a nurse come in and change Katara's bandages while I was out?"
"Uh… well, I mean- you are a heavy sleeper…" Zuko spluttered without making eye contact, "and well, someone had to do it." At this point Zuko looked at Sokka, only to see him wearing a large grin. Sokka was savoring every moment of Zuko's discomfort. Zuko immediately regained composure and put on a straight face. "I changed them."
"No, really?" Zuko scowled as Sokka stood, walked over to the Fire Lord, and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Lighten up, Sparky. I appreciate it." His smile was replaced by a serious look as he looked at Katara. "I really do. I doubt I could've done much better."
Guilt had been engulfing the better part of Sokka's mind ever since he, Suki, Aang, and Toph had set foot in the Fire Nation. If only he had been faster, smarter, stronger… maybe he could have saved his sister. But he didn't. And now she was alone in a place none of them could go with a scar that would stay with her the rest of her life. A permanent reminder of his failure.
Zuko recognized the emotion brewing in Sokka's eyes: guilt. But no matter how much he tried to change the fact, he had not inherited his uncle's innate skill at comforting people. Regardless, he took a deep breath and turned to face Sokka.
"There was nothing any of us could have done," Zuko tried. Sokka looked at him.
"Both of us know that isn't true."
Zuko cursed mentally. Sokka was right. He was feeling just as much, if not more, guilt than Sokka was. He tried again.
"It's too late to worry about the 'what-if's." Zuko turned back to Katara.
Sokka sighed and removed his arm from Zuko's shoulder.
"I know… but you can't help worrying regardless."
"Yeah…"
They settled into a comfortable silence for a few moments, only to be broken by Sokka clearing his throat once more.
"Hey," Sokka started, "about earlier… I'm… sorry for the way I sort of attacked you." He laughed nervously, focusing on a spot on the ceiling. "I was upset. At you. At me. At Azula. At everything. And well, Azula was already detained and I saw you as the only one to blame…"
Zuko nodded, not used to being apologized to by an actual friend. His whole life he had been the one begging for forgiveness.
"It's okay, Sokka. I understand," Zuko replied.
Sokka glanced at the older boy who now had a far-away look in his eyes. He nodded, knowing that Zuko really did understand, and hoping that one day he would share what caused his eyes to travel so far away in such a short amount of time.
"There are two prison towers," Two started, "they both hold various sorts of prisoners. The top three floors of both of them are high-security, hosting leaders or rebellion hosts, and only those with the Fire Lord's direct permission are allowed to enter. On the top floor of the West-facing tower, Azula remains alone and locked in, surrounded by guards at all times. On the top floor of the East-facing tower, Ozai remains the same way. So far, no one save Zuko visits Ozai. And only Zuko and a mental doctor visit Azula. The two towers are identical, so don't get them confused. There's only one way in and one way out of the top floor. A door, followed by three other doors contain both of their rooms. The three doors in front of the last one require three different keys. Then one must use a firebending move classified as the Wayfarer's Whistle to open the fourth. Four people know how to use the Wayfarer's Whistle: Fire Lord Zuko, The Dragon of the West, and two guards by the names of Rywal and Taquo. The top floor has no windows, the ventilation airways are no bigger than a few inches, and the guards surrounding are ordered to kill anyone who tries to break in."
"I make the keys. Four Wayfare Whistles. We're in; Azula's out," Five said.
"We get one of the guards to visit her during the day and observe. We break in at night." Four added.
Two smirked. "You make it sound so easy."
"Nephew! What a welcome surprise," Iroh said as he walked into the medical wing carrying a tray of tea.
Zuko and Sokka looked behind them, both with smiles.
"Did you find anything about the letter?" Sokka asked as Iroh placed the tray onto a table.
Zuko quirked an eyebrow. "What letter?" he asked.
"Nothing of importance at the moment, Zuko. Sokka found a confusing letter and I offered to look into where it was from so we could clear it up a little. And I did. Sokka, would you care to come to my study so we may work in a proper setting? I fear the chairs in here are awful for my back!" As if he was sitting in one then, Iroh put a hand on his lower back and pushed, causing a low pop of one of his vertebrae. Zuko saw what Iroh was doing and gave an appreciative nod. It was hard to sulk with Sokka in the room, though he enjoyed the younger boy's company.
"I don't know… I was planning on staying with Katara until she woke up," Sokka replied.
"For her protection, I'm aware. But look! Zuko will be here and she will be almost as protected as she would with you."
Sokka smiled at the praise and Zuko frowned at the insult to his strength, even though his uncle was joking. He could protect Katara infinitely better than Sokka! Although they did both do a pretty awful job at it recently…
"Okay… but this is the last time. If she screams again, you're the next one I'm attacking - after Zuko, of course." Iroh smiled.
"You won't have to attack me," Zuko deadpanned. Really, how much did these people underestimate him?
"We'll see about that, Spark Lord," Sokka retorted with a smile, following Iroh out of the room.
Zuko smiled, he liked having friends.
Ozai waited for the sound of all four doors to close and the footsteps to subside before he approached his meal. The filthy guards serving his worthless son didn't deserve to watch him eat. The former Fire Lord ate his stale bread in a matter of minutes, taking measured sips of water between every few bites. He might be in prison, but that did not mean he didn't have his dignity. He then drank the contents of his cold soup so quickly he didn't taste the old meat or thick broth, smirking when his fingers brushed peculiar indents on the bottom of the clay bowl. Ozai flipped the bowl over, his smirk only growing as he read the word etched into the hard dish.
Wait.
He hated waiting. But, oh, how he loved freedom.
Kai sighed as he rushed down the hall. Of course he had to be the one outside the meeting room. Of course the advisors just had to talk to him instead of any of the other guards present. Of course he had to find Fire Lord Zuko in the medical wing.
He shook his head, already knowing this wasn't going to be a pleasant next few minutes. Having served the royal family for a few years, the only glimpse of the Fire Lord Kai had seen was before he was sent to search for the Avatar. And that was not pretty. The former prince had destroyed nearly everything in and out of his path, his damaged eye not used to being half-blind.
And now Kai had to find the man in the medical wing. Everyone knew what had happened to the Avatar's waterbender. And everyone knew how tense and battle-ready all of her friends had been since her accident and the end of the war. Combine all of that with the Fire Lord's infamous temper… yeah. Kai wasn't expecting this to end without a few injuries.
Arriving at the door to the room where the Fire Lord was said to be, Kai took a deep breath and knocked.
Zuko was confused when someone knocked only minutes after Sokka and Iroh had left.
"Enter," he commanded.
Zuko turned to see a guard open the door. If the man hadn't interrupted his time with Katara, Zuko may have actually laughed. The guard looked so exasperated yet so nervous at the same time. Of course, once the reason the guard was nervous dawned on the Fire Lord, he had less of a reason to be joyful. They all probably thought he was still a hot-headed teenager with anger issues. Anyone could see he had clearly passed that stage.
"The advisors are waiting for you," the guard stated with perfect poise.
"What for?" Zuko asked, betraying no emotion on his face.
"To… discuss the aftermath of the war, Sir."
Zuko clenched his fists and a light steam flowed out of his nose. It was always the advisors! He had finally received a moment alone with Katara and he had a meeting. He vaguely remembered his uncle organizing aforementioned meeting as it was an important one. Zuko sighed, releasing his anger and knowing that he had to take advantage of every opportunity to persuade his advisors that he was a sure and ready Fire Lord.
"I'll be right there. Have someone tell my uncle I'm leaving."
The guard nodded with a flash of gratefulness on his face and left the room, closing the door behind him and waiting outside for his lord. Zuko appreciated the notion and filed the guard's face in the back of his mind. He liked him.
Turning back to Katara, Zuko bit his lip as he saw blood already beginning to soak the bandage he had just changed. He would have changed it over and over again until she was awake if it weren't for his stupid advisors.
"Please come back. It's not the same without you," he whispered. Zuko walked around her, grabbing the stack of papers Iroh and Sokka had forgotten in the room, and left, knowing that if he turned back, he might be glued to the floor with guilt.
Katara heard a door click shut. That's weird… there are no doors here.
Where 'here' exactly was, she wasn't sure. She was floating in nothingness.
She was free. Katara didn't know how she came to be where she was or why she was alone, but she really didn't care.
The expanse was friendly, it was painless, it was comforting.
It was home.
She didn't feel joy or pain or sadness or fear. She didn't feel anything.
She just was.
So if there was nothing there… Why was there a door? Katara wasn't sure how she knew the sound was a door, she just did. It worked like that in the expanse.
Things just were.
She had been at peace for what felt like forever and a second. Floating, dreaming, existing. And then a door interrupted her.
Should she let herself be curious? Katara liked being curious, she was sure of that. But feeling curiosity meant feeling things again. And she didn't want to feel.
She just didn't.
So she severed her thoughts, once again losing herself to the expanse.
It worked for a certain amount of time, she thought. Time didn't work in the expanse like it did in the real world.
Time just wasn't.
But the sound of the door echoed in her mind. Or did it echo in the expanse? Where did her mind end and the expanse start? Was there a difference?
The expanse just was.
Over. And over. And over. And over. That stupid door! How many times can one door close? Was it perhaps being opened by multiple people? Or did an annoying breeze keep blowing it open? Did the latch simply not work?
Katara wondered.
Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wonder. Wondering was fun. Katara liked wondering. Sokka didn't like it as much, she remembered. He would tell her to stop wondering.
Wondering was bad.
Or was it? Was it bad? She wondered about this. She wondered why she wondered and wondered why the word wondered was the word wondered.
Wondering was fun.
The door stopped. Katara wondered why. She didn't want it to stop. She liked the door closing, the wonders it brought.
Katara missed the door.
So she called for the door. She called and called and called. Nothing happened. She called again and again and again.
Katara gave up.
A time passed. She didn't know how long it was. Time was weird in the expanse. A time passed and then there was white.
White, what a strange word. Katara liked the white. It was different.
Different was good.
The white was but a dot, a floating speck. Was it far away? Was it close to her? She didn't know. She didn't care.
Katara moved toward the white. Or did the white move toward her? She didn't know. But that didn't matter.
The white got bigger. Or did Katara get closer? Either way, there was more white. She moved and moved and soon white surrounded her. Katara frowned.
The expanse was gone.
She reached for the white, more and more. Almost…
She drew back. The white hurt. But if the white hurt, why did she want to keep touching it.
Katara reached farther and felt pain still. Her stomach hurt. Stomach? Did she even have a stomach?
She didn't care. She reached and reached and reached and reached.
Uh oh. The white was gone. Katara saw black with light behind it. She felt fingers and legs and a head and a body.
She forgot the expanse.
She was asleep. No, not asleep. She was unconscious. There's a difference, right?
Katara didn't like it. She opened her eyes.
She opened her eyes… and closed them again.
Tui and La, that's bright! she thought. Katara squinted her eyes opened and blinked until she was able to focus. Something about the experience felt familiar.
I was in pain… I'm still in pain.
Katara frowned and looked down. She was in a hospital bed. She was injured. Again, the Agni Kai came back to her mind. The sight of lightning rushing at her filled her memory, but she shook her head.
No, she told herself. The last time she had freaked out. She would not let her emotions get the better of her.
Katara winced, the pain of her injuries hitting her full force. Her right arm felt like it was being hit by lighting repeatedly. The tingling burn ran from her shoulder to her wrist and she knew she could not move her right arm.
Her wince was sensitive. More specifically, her face was sensitive. It felt as though someone had pummeled her senseless and then pummeled her more.
But, La, she would take a hundred more pummelings in place of the pain in stomach. It was wrapped, but she knew that was where the lighting had struck.
Katara but her lip in indecision. It looked as though the bandages had been replaced recently, but there was blood - oh, Tui, that was her blood - seeping through and she had to see her wound.
Glancing to her left, she saw the same bowl of water still placed on her bedside table. There was less water than before, but she paid the amount no mind. Water was water, and she was going to use it to heal herself.
Katara took a deep breath and grabbed the edge of the wrapping on her stomach. She pulled until she came to the side of her torso. This will be interesting…
She turned onto her left, wincing, then turned to her right, still wincing, and pulled the bandage. She repeated the process until there was only a few inches left. Taking another breath, Katara pulled.
Her eyes watered and stray tears escaped from the corners as she ripped the bandage away from dried blood. There was a wet cloth in the wound. She used her pointer and middle finger to fish it out, dripping blood and puss on the bed.
"Oh, Spirits," she managed before leaning over the right side of her bed and dry heaving. Katara had lived through a war. A war. But she had never seen a wound so bloody, so hideous, so repulsive in her life.
After regaining what composure she had, Katara settled back onto the bed. She was shaking and still crying, the tears soaking the used bandage now crumpled and forgotten at her side. Her throat was so dry and her stomach - or, rather, what was left of it - felt so empty.
Heal. Heal. Heal. Just heal. Just heal. Water. I need water. Get the water, Kat, she told herself, sounding oh so like her mother. No one had called her Kat since she was eight.
Between sniffles and sobs, Katara turned herself to face the bowl of water, pointedly avoiding looking at her burn. She dipped her hands in the bowl, not strong enough to bend it out. Grabbing the water in an orb, she shakily moved her hands over her stomach. A sense of deja vu swept over her, she paid it no mind.
Heal, just heal.
Katara repeated the mantra to herself as she held the water. She was likely her best shot at survival.
The water shook in her control and she willed it not to fall. But everything that had happened had taken its toll, and Katara dropped a gallon's worth of water on her stomach.
She screamed. She couldn't keep it in. Granted, this time only the surrounding area heard it but it was just as bone-chilling as her previous one. Tears poured down her cheeks and it was impossible to differ the salty liquid from the dropped water.
Pain engulfed Katara. She shook and bled and cried and distantly wondered why she was still alone, why there were no nurses and doctors, and why her friends had seemingly abandoned her.
Azula sat alone on her bed in her cell, legs swinging back and forth like a pendulum. She was waiting for her father. He was going to come to her room that night, she was sure of it. Mother read stories and sang songs to Zuko. So Father should read stories and sing songs to her. Of course, Mother sang to Azula, too. But Azula could see the underlying fear in her mother's eyes every time she looked at her daughter. Azula didn't like it.
So she sat, waiting. Azula hoped Father didn't forget to come. Sometimes he got too busy with meetings and lady dancers. She didn't like the lady dancers.
Azula wondered what Zuko was up to. Maybe he ran into Mai. A smile crossed her lips. Azula liked teasing Mai about her brother. She thought they would make a good Fire Couple… only if she was head advisor, of course.
Azula waited. Father never came. She fell asleep crying.
Zuko walked swiftly down the halls, eager and ready to get his meeting over with. He turned to ask if his guard had informed his uncle that Katara was alone when a scream chilled his body to the core.
No thought was needed before Zuko dropped the stack of papers on the floor and sprinted down the hall he had just walked through, paying no mind to the startled servants or his bothered guard. Katara in trouble was the only thing he had in mind.
Why didn't he place extra guards? Did someone attack her? Gods, Sokka was going to kill him.
He ran faster than he thought possible, only slowing just slightly to open the medical wing door. With flames lit, he barged in looking for any sign of attack.
Realizing there wasn't one, he glanced at a Katara. She was awake. He was in pain now. Water covered her body, the bed she was in, and the floor below her. She was sobbing, and had jerked her head up to look at him.
Katara's eyes widened in recognition as she saw Zuko barge into the room. "ZUKO!" she yelled. Before Zuko could stop her, Katara threw herself from the bed and tried to run to him. The sudden action combined with her lack of sustenance caused Katara to double over in pain and fall to the floor.
Zuko was moving before he even realized it. He caught Katara as she fell to the floor. She was crying and had a wince etched into her Southern features. Zuko's heart wrenched in his chest. He was the cause of all of this…
Snapping himself back to reality, Zuko lifted Katara's disturbingly light body and walked slowly to the bed.
Katara felt herself being picked up. She would have fought for her independence and claimed she could move on her own, but all of her focus was on Zuko and the others' safety.
"Zuko, what happened?! What did you do with Azula? Is Aang back? Is everything okay? Where is everyone?! Why was I alone?!" Katara asked, clutching the front of Zuko's shirt with as much strength as she could muster as more tears fell. Her stomach hurt worse than the thought of being stolen by Koh.
Zuko's heart broke with every question she asked, more pain filling his soul than he thought possible at her last one. Of course Katara was worried about everyone else even when she was in the worst pain of her life. And while she was worrying, she had been alone, alone during the one of worst moments of her life. She probably thought they had all died.
He reached her bed and set her down, apologizing when she winced.
"Zuko, answer me!" Katara yelled.
"Katara, everyone's fine! Stop worrying about the rest of us and worry about yourself!" he yelled back with hints of rage, although he regretted it instantly as he saw her broken and folding in on herself.
"But… I'm okay…"
"No. You are not."
"Really, Zuko-"
"YOU'RE NOT OKAY!" Zuko sighed and clenched his fists to keep his anger in check, "Gods, Katara. We… we thought we lost you. We thought you were gone"
Katara looked at him with sorrowful eyes. She was already blaming herself. Such was the way of everyone in the Gaang, apparently.
They were both quiet for a moment. Katara bit her lip. "Can I have some water?" she asked quietly.
Zuko was a bit thrown off by the question, but nodded. He turned to walk to the door when a cool hand gripped his wrist. Zuko shut his eyes at how weak her hold was on him. Her nails should have been digging into his skin and his circulation should have been cutting off. She could barely hold him now.
"Don't leave," she said softly with a sniffle, "please."
The Fire Lord turned back to her as she let go of his wrist, for even that expended too much energy for the waterbender. Katara moved as far as she could to one side of the bed, quiet tears still falling. Zuko avoided watching her for fear that soon he would start crying. He called for someone to bring dinner and a lot of water, nodding satisfactorily when his request was affirmed and he was told food would be arriving soon.
"I'm sorry," he said as he lowered himself onto Katara's bed and sat next to her.
Katara attempted a weak smile. "It's alright, Zuko. I just… need to heal it."
The sentence hung in the air. They both knew it wasn't going to be a simple one-and-done healing job, but neither wanted to ruin the carefully crafted silence. After a few minutes, a servant came in with a tray of food and a jug of water. The two benders thanked the servant.
"You should eat before you try to heal again," Zuko suggested, placing the tray on his lap. There was fruit, two bread rolls, roast chicken, garlic sauce, and a bowl of soup. He was about to ask Katara a question when her feeble hands swooped in and grabbed the bowl of soup from the tray. Zuko watched with sympathy as the bowl shook in her hands, though she tried to quell it.
Zuko moved his hands to take the bowl but Katara moved away. "I can hold a bowl of soup, Zuko."
Zuko raised an eyebrow at her, even though he knew exactly why she was being so insistent. To admit she couldn't do something as simple as hold a bowl was too big a dip for her pride. And while he typically would have tried to tease her about it, Zuko just nodded.
"I know you can. But it's my fault you were… alone," Zuko started with difficulty. Sadness filtered through Katara's eyes just fast enough for him to catch a glimpse. "At least let me feed you. As a way to make up for it."
Katara knew what Zuko was doing and she was thankful for it. Handing him the bowl, she let out a content, yet sad, sigh. The bowl had been heavy, but the fact that she even had to admit that was what saddened her.
Zuko held the bowl and soon hot steam drifted out of the soup. He had made it just hot enough to be enjoyed, but not so hot for Katara to burn her mouth. The last time he had fed someone was when he and Azula were toddlers…
Zuko was startled out of his thoughts when a warm weight settled on his right arm.
"I'm sorry," Katara mumbled against him with her eyes closed. "I'm really tired."
Zuko's eyes widened. This whole friend thing was going to take some time to get used to. "No, no, no. It's uh... it's fine." He tried to give a reassuring smile when he realized she couldn't see his face. Instead, Zuko filled a spoon with the warm soup, catching broth and a few vegetables. "Open," he instructed.
Katara gave a small smile at the parent-like instruction and opened her mouth. Soon, the hot spoon passed her lips and she closed her mouth around the utensil, swallowing the broth and vegetables. Zuko then removed the spoon and filled it again. They repeated the action in comfortable silence until the bowl was empty, Katara against Zuko with her eyes closed the whole time.
"Water," Katara instructed with her eyes open. Zuko understood her. He placed the tray onto the table and grabbed the jug, balancing it on his right thigh.
Taking a deep breath, Katara called for the jug's water. It flowed out of the opening and onto her dark hands. Food really did help.
She placed her hands over her face first, after removing a bandage on her cheek, and healed all bruises, scrapes, and cuts. She could express without wincing now.
Next, Katara removed two bandages on her right shoulder and healed the burns they had covered. She made to heal her lightning mark next, but stopped abruptly and set on healing her stomach first. If Zuko wondered why, he didn't say anything.
Katara breathed deeply before gently setting the water on her stomach. She winced and tensed for a moment at the initial shock, but relaxed soon after. She had a job to do. Katara was far too tired to attempt to heal all of it so she settled on the area just outside of any charred skin. Luckily, with the enemy of the war being the Fire Nation, Katara was familiar with different types of burns.
Letting her medical side take over, Katara identified her second-level burn, the one causing so much pain. While a majority of the wound was a third-level burn, that also meant that her nerve endings had been burned, rendering a large part of her abdomen numb.
Katara closed her eyes as she filtered the water through the threads of her stomach, all of her concentration required. She felt torn muscle, burned ligaments, charred skin. There was a lot. Maybe too much… No. She could do this. It was only a second-level… for now. Katara focused her water on the area immediately surrounding her pain receptors, and healed those first. The longer she went on, the weaker her bending would get. One bowl of soup only went so far…
Zuko watched Katara work in sheer awe. Only she was able to truly help herself. It was amazing in a sad sort of way. Maybe he'd talk with her about it later. But right now he was her rock. Her anchor. He had a million other things he could be doing, but Mai had let him come for a reason, and he wasn't going to waste his opportunity to redeem himself.
Suddenly, what water Katara had had left - which wasn't a lot, only about a handful - splashed onto her clothing once again. Zuko began to panic until he felt Katara slightly curl into him. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled. She was asleep. Exhaustion must have taken the better of her.
Her wound didn't look significantly better, but Zuko figured that if she was sleeping and there were no more fresh tears, Katara had healed herself somehow.
Zuko felt obligated not to move. He was being used as a personal pillow and furnace, after all. He decided on working as well as he could using his memory. However, mental work was infinitely times as boring as real work, and the Fire Lord felt the day's events catching up to him. They had just won a war, for Agni's sake. Perhaps a catnap wouldn't hurt...
"General Iroh," a tired guard said to the former Dragon of the West, "I have a message for you from the Fire Lord."
Iron nodded, leaving an alerted Sokka in his office and stepping into the hallway.
"What is the message?" Iroh asked, his hands tucked into his sleeves.
"Fire Lord Zuko wishes me to tell you he is leaving," the guard replied.
Iroh raised an eyebrow. "Is that all he said?" The guard nodded. Leave it to my nephew to be as vague as a woman cheating on her husband, Iroh thought with a mental smile. "When did he send you?"
The man became clearly uncomfortable and avoided eye contact with Iroh. He cleared his throat. "Over thirty minutes ago, Sir. No one knew where you were…"
"I see. I assume my nephew did not tell you. You may return to your post." The man nodded and walked away from Iroh.
The retired general decided he would go ask his nephew where he was leaving to and when. He informed Sokka that he had to speak to someone, assured the warrior that it was nothing urgent, and left.
Iroh sauntered to the medical wing, figuring his nephew would be there until he left for wherever it was he was going. He reached the main room and silently opened the door, smiling at the sight before him. Iroh closed the door just as quietly and walked back to his office, the image of Katara and Zuko sleeping with their heads on each other keeping a smile on his face the whole way back.
A/N: oy vey. this chapter is officially longer than a whole short story i wrote once. AND IT ONLY COVERS LIKE AN HOUR OF THE STORY. anyway.. sorry it uh.. took a bit. quick question: do you prefer more frequent updates with shorter chapters or less frequent updates with longer chapters?
thank you and please review if you can!