A/N: The hiatus between Books 2 and 3 is kind of every Kataang shipper's playground, so, here's my take on said hiatus. This may not necessarily line up with canon but whatever, it's a labor of love. I don't own ATLA.

Katara had not slept for more than an hour at a time since Aang's going fully unconscious at the beginning of the week. She was running herself ragged tending to his every need. It was staring to worry the others on the ship, her father and brother in particular; Katara wouldn't even leave Aang's room to eat. Sokka knew it was the guilt eating away at her, the incorrect belief that she had to somehow make up for what she was unable to prevent. Thinking if she did enough, it would be exactly what was missing and Aang would come to.

So far, it wasn't working. Katara was determined not to lose hope, but that resolve slowly weakened with every passing day that Aang wasn't awake. Stubborn as she was, no one on the ship could talk her out of the self-imposed sentinel role she'd placed herself in. All Katara wanted was some indication of Aang's forgiveness for what had happened. Because it was her fault, even though her brother kept saying there was nothing more she could have done, that Aang would never hate her for it, that he'd probably remember her saving his life over anything else. But he was unable to convince her.

Katara, being only human, could not fight the exhaustion and misery with sheer willpower indefinitely. The night finally came when she surrendered to it all, letting the weight fall off her shoulders and crash around her as she drifted off to sleep on the floor beside Aang's bed. But Katara was about to discover that the respite was only momentary.

For not long after she entered slumber did she see the face that haunted her day in and day out. Princess Azula, smiling smugly with the catacombs behind her engulfed in flames. Katara stood fragile before the Fire Lord's daughter, spent and disheveled in comparison. Azula's wicked amber eyes glowed with sadistic joy as she glared at Katara like the girl was a bug to be squashed.

In a single strike of lightning, Azula had managed to rob Katara of all that had grounded her, all the hope she'd held onto thus far. And Katara was tired of running away, in her dreams and elsewhere.

So instead of fearing the face she now met, the waterbender stood her ground and narrowed her eyes. "I know you have something you want to say to me, Azula. So say it," Katara spat.

Azula just kept on smiling, her gaze locked dead on the Water Tribe girl's own. "If you're expecting me to gloat, well…you'd only be partially right. After all, I did what my brother never could. I eliminated the Avatar from the equation. Now, nothing can stop the Fire Nation's conquest of the Earth Kingdom. And to think, not even my uncle, the great war general, made it to this point. I'm the only one to credit here." The princess scoffed. "Not that you're impressed by any of it."

Katara seethed. "I've spent too much time losing my mind over how angry I am at you. And for the record, Aang's not dead yet. That's the one good thing I was able to do throughout this whole ordeal." Thank spirits this was only a dream. If the real Azula learned of the Avatar's survival, the second strike would doubtless devastate harder than the first.

"You? Angry at me?" Azula sounded surprised. "If anything I gave you the kick in the pants you needed to sort out how you feel about that little freak."

"How I feel about Aang has nothing to do with this," Katara fired back quickly—though as soon as the words left her mouth, she heard how blatantly false and defensive they were. Azula was no idiot, and this dream wasn't pointless.

The princess laughed, a truly bone-chilling resonance. Katara grit her teeth. "Are you sure? You're killing yourself over him. Look at you. You're a mess. Haven't eaten, slept, or bathed like some kind of fanatic. Is what you're doing really helping him?" she asked disparagingly.

Katara crossed her arms. "I happen to be a very talented healer. Aang's wound is nearly all mended; one more session should do it." But the scar is permanent…

Azula rolled her eyes. "That's not what I was referring to. The inability to leave his side, all the time you've spent crying and cursing yourself over things that are out of your control. Your emotions have completely overtaken your judgement. And in the end, I won't even need to get involved; the toll it's taking on you will destroy you itself. I simply sit back and watch you go to ruins." The princess chuckled darkly. "Pretty sweet deal if you ask me."

The waterbender's hands curled into fists at her sides. "He's going to wake up. He has to; the world needs him. I needhim," Katara replied, her words hitching in desperation. Suddenly, the projection of Azula with which she spoke grew larger—almost three times the size it had been before—causing Katara to stagger backwards.

"But what if he never does?" The bigger Azula shot back, her voice deeper, louder and more threatening now. "Don't tell me you haven't considered the possibility. If the Avatar sleeps forever what will you do? Will you continue slaving over him as though it will make a difference? You'll need to move on. But you know who doesn't move on? People whose feelings are involved. Now, did I get all that right?"

Stop making sense, Katara thought furiously. She craned her neck upwards to meet the princess's eyes. "Cut the preamble. You don't care about me. I can tell you're waiting to ask me something. So ask." Her tone was sharp and cold, in contrast to the enveloping heat from the surrounding inferno.

"Fine," Azula deferred tiredly. "There are only two things I want to know. The first being, if you could somehow wave your hands and magically change the course of history, would you? Would you put yourself in the path of my lighting and spare the Avatar his current fate?"

Stunned silence followed the inquiry, a response deftly evading the waterbender. Katara blinked, her jaw slack. Azula laughed at the girl frozen before her, growing even larger as she did. Katara had not felt this small in a long time.

"Well would you?" The princess asked once more. "Would you take all that pain, bear the scar if it meant your precious airbender walking away unharmed?" When Katara still did not reply, Azula added, "Did you know the pain of being struck by lightning is like being stung by ten thousand moth-hornets from the inside out?"

"N-no, I didn't," Katara stuttered. The question weighed heavy on her mind. Would I do that for Aang? Whatever my answer, what does it mean? She swallowed the lump in her throat. "He's stronger than you think, Azula. You killed him, and he's still alive."

"Don't change the subject. Either you would or you wouldn't. The longer it takes you to answer, the longer you're away from him in the land of the living, remember?"

Katara took a deep breath. "I mean…I'd have to say…yes."

Azula leaned back a little, raising her eyebrows. "You would? You do remember what you said moments ago, don't you? I killed him. That would be you. You're saying you would die for him?"

Wait, I hadn't thought about it like that. But Katara found it made no difference. "Yes, Azula, I would die for him," she clarified calmly.

"Interesting." The princess sounded entertained. "Nothing I couldn't have predicted you'd say. Anyone with half a brain can tell how much you care about him. Though why you care at all is a mystery," she said disgustedly.

As though by reflex, Katara immediately called to mind at least a dozen things she loved about Aang. His smile and his laugh. His kindness and generosity, his humility. How his maturity and childlike innocence balanced out. Aang was loyal and defended his friends no matter what. He was self-sacrificing. He looked for the positive in life, even in the bleakest of circumstances. He made every day an adventure. As the Avatar, Aang held all the power in the world—yet he was still the gentlest person Katara knew. She felt safe with him. Understood by him. Even while he was unavailable, Aang was impacting her life in monumental ways. And she was falling apart without him.

Katara could justify how much she cared for Aang in a heartbeat. But it was something Azula—the frigid, immoral, loveless and lawless monster she was—would never be able to comprehend.

Unfortunately, the conversation was far from over. "You said you had two things to ask me. What's the second?" Katara pried.

Azula snickered. "You really wanna know?" She teased. "All right, here it is. If the opportunity presented itself…would you kill me?"

Once again, Katara was struck speechless. "Kill you?"

"You heard me. Deep down that's what you want, right?"

Katara was then reminded of the exhausting anger that had led her to this sleep—this dream—in the first place. It was a fury usually reserved for the man who'd killed her mother. Never had she thought of extending it to anyone else—it was too dangerous. The anger sought to turn her into a vessel for vengeance, and it would surely succeed if she was not careful.

Yet…here she was. Somehow, unbeknownst to her, Aang had managed to take up as much residence in Katara's heart as did her mother. And suddenly, Azula was just as deserving of Katara's righteous indignation as the Fire Nation soldier who'd shattered her world all those years ago.

It seemed Katara wasn't quite aware of just how angry she could get.

Azula's expression was growing impatient. "Oh, don't tell me you need to mull this one over, too."

"No, I…I don't, actually," Katara said as an answer began to form in her mind. "You want the truth? Fine. This is my truth. You're a special kind of evil, Azula, and for all intents and purposes you deserve to die. If I could be the one responsible, well…I'm not exactly sure if I'd consider that a privilege. But I would do anything for the people I love."

The word caught her by surprise. But Katara had meant it. She was talking about Aang, and she did love Aang. What kind of love it was, though, she wasn't ready to specify—at least, outside of her own mind. "I admit," Katara continued, "I don't know if I'd end you so thoughtlessly this far after the incident. That being said, I want you to listen to what I say next very carefully."

Azula cradled her face with one hand, the mock-attention she was paying Katara meant as a jeer to ignite the fire she knew lay dormant within. "I'm all ears."

Here goes nothing. Katara took a deep breath. "I consider myself, all things accounted, to be a fair person. The punishment fits the crime. Including a life for a life." The waterbender's stare could melt solid iron. "But I'm not so easily forgiving. I'm patient, but I don't forget the ways I've been wronged. And despite what most people seem to think, my patience does have a breaking point.

"This may be just a dream, but I swear on my mother, Azula, if we're ever in this situation again, and you so much as think about coming near him? There is no element, no bending, no army or nation or almighty spirit in existence that could save you from my wrath. Make the first move, and I will not hesitateto tear you limb for limb, watch the life go out of your eyes just like it left his in these catacombs when you struck him down. I want you to die knowing there is someone powerful enough to defeat you, and the weapon of your demise is something you could never fathom: love. My love is what hides my rage, until it becomes fuel. And trust me, no object of my rage could ever survive what I'd bring upon it. There are no more chances. You will die by my hand knowing what happens to those who try to hurt the people I love. I'm done letting them get away with it. This was the last time. So I dare you, Azula. You think you're invincible, but you haven't seen my breaking point yet."

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then, unexpectedly, the princess started clapping slowly, guffawing as if the whole thing had been a show. "Oh my, what a riveting speech. You've really got yourself in the mood for bloodshed, huh?" She laughed again, as though Katara's truth had been a joke with the most hilarious punchline she'd ever heard. "Want to know what would really happen? Nothing will change! You were powerless before, and you willbe powerless again." Azula scoffed. "Foolish girl. What if we do end up in the same confrontation, and this time I finish him off as intended? What then?"

Katara met Azula's gaze levelly, taking note of the flagrant dominance glinting in the whites of her eyes. She was used to looking at people as though they were below her. But this was Katara's dream. Here, she and Azula were on an even playing field.

In that moment, Katara saw through the princess's act just as Azula had hers. She saw she would not be free of the nightmare until she succumbed to what her own subconscious was trying to coax out of her.

She was truly the one in control.

"You want me to say it, don't you?" Katara finally felt like she was talking to herself, despite it being "Azula" who stood before her.

The princess nodded. "I do." And she waited.

So Katara said it. "I don't know," she whispered. The three little words hung between them like an admission of guilt to a crime punishable by death. "I'm scared." Katara's voice was barely audible now. "I think…I think I might love him…"

Azula's eyes met the waterbender's inquisitively, but she said nothing. Katara did not owe the princess an explanation…but she did owe one to herself. If she wanted to let these events go once and for all, then this was the only way.

"I love him," she said again, with more confidence. "In every way. I love having adventures together, and learning new things, and being a team. I want us to be a team forever, he and I."

"But the Avatar—"

"No!" Katara shouted, and the word ricochetted off the walls of the catacomb in haunting echoes. "Not the Avatar. Aang. There have been thousands of Avatars, and there will be thousands more, but there is only one Aang."

In dreams you cannot feel tears, but Katara knew she was crying. "I know there's other people that need him. Spirits, we'll never see the end of this war otherwise. But…it doesn't matter to me. I just want to be there for him, with him. When he feels like talking to someone, or needs a hug, or a second opinion, I want it to be me that he comes to.

"The world is constantly demanding something from him; Aang does nothing but give, and asks for nothing in return. If he wakes up…when he wakes up, I will do my utmost to make sure he feels appreciated, every day, no matter what. I want him to know how much I care. And when he starts to feel like he has nothing left to give, I'll fill him back up so he can keep on being the hero they're all expecting him to be."

The tears she knew were there but could not feel trailed down her cheeks, bearing witness to her turmoil. Despite them, a small smile broke out on Katara's face. "I've been his biggest cheerleader since the day I met him. And I have a feeling I always will be." Katara met Azula's cold, assessing gaze with her broken one, shrugging. "So that's my answer. If you killed him…I honestly don't know what would come next. I can't think beyond him, can't imagine a future that doesn't include him. I've tried, but…I don't like what I see. That is, if I'm able to visualize anything at all."

Katara wasn't sure what had possessed her to say all that—whether the delirium or the intensity of the dream itself—but one thing was for sure. Those words, at their core, held some kind of undeniable truth. The confession shook Katara all the way through her bones, and yet…she wouldn't take it back. Not a single word.

Azula's pensive countenance transformed into a wide, disturbing grin, venom returning to her eyes in earnest. "Well look at that—I'm right again. You are in love with him—you even said it yourself." She scoffed. "You're hopeless, Katara."

The waterbender hated how her name sounded in the princess's mouth. Katara squared her shoulders; she had one last thing to say. "That's where you're wrong, Azula. I'm not hopeless. I'm the exact opposite, actually—thanks to Aang. Even if I lose him now…he's changed me for the better. Aang will wake up; I'm going to personally make sure of it. I've already lost hope once, and I'm not going to lose it again. I will do whatever it takes."

Azula smirked. "We'll see about that." Before Katara could respond, a burst of flames exploded through the catacombs, Azula disappearing within them.

Katara, too, was about to be consumed by the tongues of fire when she gasped awake, sitting bolt upright. The sudden change in position made her nauseous; Katara grabbed her head, squeezing her eyes shut. It was the middle of the night—moonlight gauzed the pitch-black sky and melted in through the small window in milky rays. Katara was still on the floor in Aang's cabin.

Fragments of the dream flitted through her mind, and the more of it she remembered the more amazed she was at how brave, how brutal she'd been in explaining her terms to Azula. And to think, the whole time it was never really Azula—Katara had engaged an entire conversation with herself, merely confirming all the things she'd previously been too afraid to confront. Katara was surprised to find she wasn't drowning in humiliation the way she'd feared she would be if any of this eventually came to the surface. In fact, she felt freer, knowing she was no longer lying to herself.

Slowly, Katara turned to look at the boy in the bed above her, laying still and breathing even. Still alive. She rose uneasily, reaching down to grab his limp hand in hers. Katara squeezed it once, leaning in towards him until her lips were at his ear. "Wake up soon, all right?" She pleaded in a whisper. "We're a team, you know. You and me, forever." Katara brushed back a few novel tufts of hair, kissing his forehead lightly before allowing her own to rest against his. Aang's soft exhales tickled the tip of her nose, and she smiled. He was still with her, still fighting. She couldn't lose him now.

Katara placed her palm gently on his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulsed through her whole body like an electric current. Her only mission now was to keep that beautiful heart beating. Everything was depending on it.

Katara reached for Aang's hand once more, using her free one to press his fingertips to her chest, where her own heartbeat was. "You'll always be right in here," she told him. "Always." And she hoped that, if he could respond, he would tell her the same thing.

Tears burned behind her eyelids as Katara committed the moment to memory; her hand pressed against his chest, holding his own to hers. Two hearts beating in the night, one crying out silently for the other.

Eventually, enervation claimed the battle, and Katara found herself curled up on the bed next to Aang, her head settled on his chest as it rose and fell. He was the wind beneath her wings, and she was the center of his storm. They were a team, and that would never change.

Katara realized she was smiling at the very last second, before Aang's heartbeat finally lulled her to sleep.