Chapter 12: Trouble in Paradise

Previously on Unstoppable...

Mouth agape, heart skipping a few beats, sweat running down her face, and eyes widening; Katara gasped as the realisation hit her. All the secrecy, the new attitude, the flirty comments, the constant need to be on the move, the 'always being sweet to stay on her good side', the passive-aggressiveness, manipulation and cunning Zuko accused him of, it all made sense to her now as she thought to herself:

'The man behind the killings, the mole Zuko mentioned, the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes, the man behind that clown make up… the man known as Amon… is Aang.'

The morning after the engagement party...

The soft tweets of birds had found a place in her heart. She wasn't the type to let sappy and 'adorable shit' like this affect her so, however, years of living in Republic City had forced her to grow accustomed to sweet little songs when the sun rose. From her apartment, the cherry blossoms housed a flock of artists – sweet melodies danced just around her open window; foreign frequencies – due to growing up in a time of war – now, however, they were what her mind took refuge in during those early mornings before she'd dress for the precinct. Therefore, she wasn't mildly surprised as to why she was in such a sour mood when she instead awoke, not to the lovely tweets she'd grown accustomed to, but to the hollering of uptight and egotistical men creating a ruckus just shy of her window…

That, and she had a massive hangover… and was very naked.

Toph moved her messy ebony hair away from her face, not that it really mattered considering her lack of vision, but it was irritating her, along with the headache. As she fisted the sheets close to her naked body, she wondered why she was void of clothing in the first place. She hadn't the habit of sleeping bare, and even after her usual flings, she'd always put her clothes back on and either leave the foreign home or kick her one night stand out of her apartment. Taking that into consideration, Toph tried to ignore her headache as she attempted to heighten her other senses; her feet weren't planted on the floor – soft sheets beneath her, and she couldn't feel anyone around her. So, she focused on listening… apart from the men hollering just outside, their voices being carried alongside the humid Fire Nation wind through her open window, there was no other sound within her vicinity. Thus, she was relieved she hadn't done something stupid and was in fact completely alo –

She tensed, her bones growing rigid as the rustling of sheets, low groans and soft breaths announced themselves. She turned her head towards who she assumed was also the just-as-naked man to her left. The earthbender groaned, thinking she'd likely drank too much and had another meaningless one-night stand with someone she couldn't give two fucks about. Which also meant that he'd likely try again or come back for more, and she'd have to not-so-nicely 'explain' to him – she totally wouldn't beat him up – why she wasn't interested, as was the case on many occasions back home in Republic City. Therefore, with her massive, annoying headache also torturing her, Toph was preparing herself to –

She tensed again, stone rigid, like her element, as she heard the unknown individual mumble her name. Ice… it wasn't her favourite element, so it's completely understandable as to why she felt immensely uncomfortable as she sat there frozen. However, it wasn't the words; her name, that had stolen her ability to move from her. It was the voice. The low yet sarcastic, funny, annoying, firm, playful and agonisingly tempting voice of the Southern Watertribe Warrior, who a few years ago she considered a friend and her unrequited love, had rendered her immobile.

'No.' She began to panic as her eyes widened and she jolted off the bed, her ability to move suddenly returning to her. 'No. No. No. No. No. Not- not a– this… this didn't happen. This did not happen.' She shook her head as she located her clothes through her seismic sense, opening her closet in her temporary room, donning whatever robes she could find, and bolting out of there, unwilling to listen to the pleas of the man in her bed.

"Toph! Wait!"

She didn't listen as she slammed the door and hastily walked away, the thought of running had escaped her as she didn't want to draw attention to herself. For now, she needed time alone to think, to process.

Her once friend… whose mistake - their mistake… had ruined everything. And now, as she continued to march away from Sokka, Toph couldn't help but feel like she'd made that same mistake again. Only this time, the devastation left in the aftermath could be much, much worse.

'What else are we gonna fuck up now?'

Meanwhile...

He panted as he leapt over the building and landed on the next one, continuing to make his way through the rooftops as he headed towards the Palace. It had been an agonisingly long night; with everything going as planned, Amon wondered why he'd gotten little to no sleep last night. He would've blamed Quinn Red's insistent rambling and cries of help for his restlessness, but even that moron had grown tired and gotten some shut eye, while Amon had remained awake. As stated before, everything had gone exactly as planned, so why then did he have this feeling, as he leapt over yet another alleyway and onto another building, that something was about to go horribly wrong.

He halted as he reached the ledge, attempting to catch his breath as he panted, leaning over the rooftop and gazing down at the alleyway. Curiosity spiked within him as pleas and cries tackled his eardrums, the cries of a child and laughter that belonged to other children playing tug-of-war with his need to reach the Palace and his instinct to save the poor boy. Zuko, due to the events that transpired the night before: his Engagement Party, had called for an early emergency meeting. Amon was already late, and he had no time to watch a bunch of kids bully one another – rationally, he thought, 'I should leave. I need to get to the Palace now.' Though, he couldn't help but drop down, surprising and jolting the children aware as he landed in between the elders, and the one they were shoving. His black eyes, white face, and red scowl targeted them, a clear warning painted on his expression. The kids – or rather, teenagers, grew wary; having heard about the clown dressed in black robes - about how he punishes the vile and guilty - they were naturally frightened, not to mention the fear-striking-clown-warpaint sowed holes into their eyes.

Amon shielded the kid behind him as he stood at his full length, towering over the young teenagers who simply whimpered and retreated, their footsteps echoing through the narrow alleyway as they ran from the scene. Satisfied, Amon turned around, facing the whimpering child behind him. Scratches and bruises highlighted him, cuts and dry tears marked him as he gazed up at the tall, hooded figure, his whimpers coming to a halt when their eyes met. Surprisingly, no expression of his could be read as fear or dread – staring into those amber eyes, all Amon saw was reluctance, understanding… and gratitude.

"You look pretty banged up," he kept his voice warm and inviting to keep from frightening the boy - his natural voice - thus losing the cold, high pitched, rasp he'd gained from tragic, unforeseen events. "Were those kids picking on you?"

The boy nodded, his eyes hadn't left Amon's own dark grey orbs; he noticed.

"I could heal them," he suggested. "Would you like me to?"

Again, the boy simply nodded.

Amon wondered why the boy wasn't wary of the scars, or the warpaint, or the outfit, or just him in general. It wasn't as if he wanted the world to see him as a monster - again, only the vile, cruel and guilty had that perception of him - but that was what was required to execute the plan. So, when fully grown adults would quiver at the mere sight of him, he wondered why this young boy wasn't crying fear-filled tears when Amon kneeled before him, his hands encased in water, and began healing the various cuts.

"I'm not great at this," he stated, smiling sadly as he brought his water covered hands to the boy's bruises and cuts, already feeling much weaker. "But I'll try my best."

The child nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile which Amon returned.

He winced when the healing began, his hands shaking and his feet trembling as he tried to remain in control. Wielding the elements had been the Avatar's speciality, though, even the most talented bender in the universe can falter when he's pushed to his absolute lowest limit. Gritting his teeth, Amon willed himself to continue healing all wounds to the best of his ability. The boy was still gazing at him. Still not frightened… but curious, maybe. He couldn't look too into it, nor could he finish healing the boy completely as, a few quiet seconds later, a rather loud and alarming voice echoed through the alleyway.

"Get away from him!"

Steering clear of the boy, Amon jolted back to his feet and faced the intruder, his offensive firebending stance losing its merit as he regarded the man approaching the boy; he seemed to be a regular citizen.

"Are you alright kid?" He asked, stepping between the boy and Amon as he glared at the hooded figure.

"Yes… I- I'm fine," came the child's soft voice.

"Did this man hurt you?" The older citizen asked, turning to face the boy for a moment as the child shook his head.

"No. He didn't," he stated. "He saved me from my bullies."

Relaxing somewhat, though still cautious, the older man turned towards the hooded figure, eyes scanning him top to bottom until he noticed the properties of his face. Distinct scars, ghost-white face paint, lava red hair, black eyes, and a crimson smile.

"A-Amon?"

"You've heard of me?" He wanted to remain quiet, knowing he'd be better off leaving so he could arrive at the meeting on time, but his curiosity had once again peaked.

"You're the guy who challenged Firelord Zuko and broadcasted the killing of that Underground scum via mover," the man explained, relaxing further as he gazed into Amon's dark grey eyes. "Some people are afraid of you," he commented, "but there are many like me who are grateful for what you've done."

'So, the plan is working so far,' Amon thought, smiling lowly as he met the man's gaze.

"And why do you praise me?"

"The man you killed, his gang killed my son and his friends when they unfortunately stumbled upon one of their business meetings," the man growled out, clenching his fists in anger as he recalled the sight of his lifeless son's body being burnt to ashes before him. "He was the one who ordered the killing: Lazeurus Hei."

Understanding flushed him as his smile widened.

"The Firelord and his fiance came to my wife and I a week or so ago, trying to console us, reassure us. He said he was gonna do something about it; the killings, the drugs… but he hasn't done anything! He's been prancing around with noblemen, celebrating his stupid engagement while the rest of us rot, holding our dead children in our arms as we burn together!"

"The Firelord is incompetent," Amon commented, to which the man nodded in agreement to.

"He is."

"But the struggle, the suffering, the pain… it'll all soon be over. I promise," Amon stated, nodding at the man and smiling at the boy behind him before he leapt up and resumed making his way to the Palace.

The man felt his resolve strengthening as he carried the child and walked him back home before returning to his grieving, sick wife – he believed him. 'I'll support you… in any way I can, Amon,' he promised himself.

Meanwhile...

She paced around her room, unaware of the rather loud hammering of the earthbenders repairing the main hall a few blocks away as she analysed the situation, her thoughts attacking her at every angle.

'Aang isn't Amon. He can't be.'

She argued with herself, her feet incessantly tapping against the cold floor of her room as she ruffled her hair while her eyes remained unfocused, dazed; images of his sweet, goofy smile, and a sinister, crimson smile, flashing before her eyes.

'He's an air nomad. He's not a murderer. He wouldn't kill anyone.'

'Just look at what he did to Ozai,' her own thoughts betrayed her, unpleasant memories surfacing as the waterbender tried to wash them away through wavering reassurances.

'That wasn't – no one knows what happened. There's no proof that he did anything. It's just a rumour.'

Katara tried to calm herself through deep breaths, attempting to clear the haze of white and red that flashed before her eyes as she recalled his sweet smile – the way he smiled through his laughter never failed to amaze her; how someone could look so beautiful was beyond her. That smile however, those soft pink lips, in an instant, due to recently gained information, became crimson, and ghastly. And that sun-kissed, fair skin brightened to ghost white… and she had to take a seat to pacify the erratic pulsing of the significant organ keeping her alive.

'Maybe someone planted that bag in his room.'

'No, his robes and personal belongings were inside it, and it was almost hidden from prying eyes as well, so it has to be his.'

'But maybe someone planted those canisters of paint then. And the was that girl in that photograph anyways? What's her relation to him? From what I could see, she was probably a child. She seemed so young… and they both looked so happy.' Katara shook her head as she refocused, 'still, who is she to him? And where is she now? What happened to her?'

A barrage of questions assaulted her. Yet, the one question she was too afraid to ask herself was the one that bugged her the most:

'Could Aang really be Amon?'

Then, the domino effect took hold as everything else collapsed before her eyes.

'And if he is, what do I do?'

'Do I turn him in?'

'Do I confront him?'

'Talk to him?'

'Convince him to turn himself in?'

'Ask him to stop?'

'Will he even listen to me?'

'Do I have to take him down?'

'Can I even take him down?'

'Am I strong enough?'

'Do I even want to take him down?'

'Can I…'

…

'If all this is true… if he really is…'

'Can I still love him… after everything?'

A few hours later...

Zuko stumbles as he nears the Avatar's room, his eyes hazy with pooled tears – hands shaking as he grips the handle. Moans and cries and praises erupt from the room, muffled through the acoustic treatment; subtle, but not unnoticeable.

He turns the handle and nudges the door open the barest amount and is immediately met with the sound of his nightmares.

"Oh Aang. Right there."

Whimpering from pain, the Firelord opens the door completely, willing himself to hold back tears as he walks in on the sight of the Avatar's face buried between his wife's legs. Her thighs tighten around him as she ruffles his hair, fingers caressing and gripping his short, jet-black locks as soft sighs and whimpers escape her.

To his horror, Zuko continues to watch, unable to stop them or rush away – statue-like.

"Mhmm. Yes! Yes, Aang. I love you," she mewls out, writhing and clutching the bedsheets harder as her hips and thighs quiver.

The airbender hurriedly laps her up, his face grinding against her pussy, moaning as her juices flowed into his mouth as a blessing, meeting no resistance. "You taste so fucking good, Katara."

Zuko watches from the door as Katara continues to mewl and writhe, her eyes closed and hands clutching onto the Avatar's hair while he vigorously licks her clean, tongue gliding across her wet thighs and pussy, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, causing her to moan and whimper at his intensity.

"I am going to fuck the shit out of you."

"Ohhhh… yes! Please," she gasps, excited as he begins kissing his way up her body, lingering at her breasts for a moment as he starts sucking on one of her peaks while she sighs in satisfaction.

"Zuko?" his amber orbs meet her oceanic irises – his hurt and destroyed, hers tranquil and love-filled. She had apparently caught him peeking, though she didn't seem to mind. Katara smiles as she opens her mouth while Aang begins sucking on her collarbone, "We'll be done in a few minutes."

Zuko just stands there, unsure of how he should respond. Baffled and heartbroken over how casually his wife talked to him while shamelessly enjoying the Avatar on their bed, within his presence.

"Would you mind closing the door, dear husband. Thanks."

Then, she was kissing the airbender again. It didn't take long for her to start moaning and screaming when the Avatar began thrusting into her, and Zuko couldn't bear to watch as he followed his wife's instructions and left the room, his wife's moans lost behind the now closed door.

"Firelord Zuko?! My lord?! Are you there?!"

He is shaken from his nightmarish daydream as the protests from his council members unpleasantly greeted him.

"Are you alright, my lord?" Councilman Zion asked, concerned as he gazed at the Firelord beside him.

"I'm – I'm alright. Apologies," he apologised, dipping his head slightly as Zuko tried to shake the remnants of his treacherous fiancé's affair, from last night, out of his mind.

"You've been quite distracted lately, Firelord Zuko," stated General Fang, his condescending tone not going unnoticed by Zuko nor the others – nor the way his voice grew bitter when he addressed him as the Firelord.

"I'm fine," the firebender growled, shooting an impatient glare towards the General until the tension was disturbed by none other than the Avatar.

"I apologise for being late," he apologised, bowing as the doors swung open between him before he made his way to the next available seat, which was two seats away from Zuko, to his right. "Got held up by certain duties," he added, smirking towards Zuko as he took his seat.

"Care to elaborate, Avatar Aang?" A council member asked, recognising the Avatar's tone as he smirked at the airbender.

"Not particularly."

Zuko didn't fail to notice the small beads of sweat rolling down Aang's neck, or the way his skin seemed flushed, or the way he seemed utterly exhausted. He pondered on why Aang would be late and seemed so tired, only to met with more disturbing thoughts; 'Katara hasn't arrived either… and he seems so tired, like he hasn't slept all night, and he's sweating as if he ran a marathon just now and based on what happened last night…' Zuko's mind automatically connected certain pieces that Aang had placed, pieces that had no merit yet seemed all the more convincing. All at once, images of his fiance and Aang doing multiple rounds this morning inside the Avatar's room attacked the forefront of his mind; images flashed before him - them doing it on the bed, in the shower, the bath, in front of the mirror, by the door - he shook his head vehemently - willing the thoughts to exit his brain just as quickly as they'd entered, leaving him feeling empty, angry and above all else, nauseous.

"Is everyone prepared, or do we need a minute?" Asked one of the council members, thus once again pulling Zuko away from his thoughts and nightmares as he refocused.

"No, let's begin," announced Zuko. "Councilman Zion, would you please state the agenda for today."

"Certainly, my lord. As you all must be aware, Amon interrupted our Firelord's engagement party last night and captured the Northern Watertribe representative from the Elder Council of Republic City: Quinn Red," began Councilman Zion: Zuko's trusted advisor. "Amon and his few forces battled our Firelord, Master Iroh, Lady Mai and Master Ty Lee, along with a few other delegates who took a stand. After their escape, our guards searched the premises but were unable to find them, nor could they discover any beneficial clues. A workforce of a few earthbenders have already begun repairing the damages in the Main Hall, the authorities have been alerted and are currently searching for the individuals that attacked the Palace last night. They have also been informed of the kidnapping of Elder Republic City Council member Quinn Red, and they've been instructed to retrieve him unharmed - even though the public is aware of the attack, they haven't yet knowledge of exactly what occurred: of Amon nor the capturing of our guest. Though, a few reports have been pestering us for our comments on the situation. Today, it is crucial that we decide on how to deal with Amon and the nuisances he's caused."

Dead silence would be an accurate description of the war room. No one had anything to say, and the few who did have a thought or two lingering remained speechless. The tension was palpable, nervousness present like the slow dripping of water droplets from a wet ceiling; becoming more intolerable as every second passed.

Meanwhile, Zuko couldn't help but wonder if he should reveal his suspicions, which he was convinced were assured, regarding Aang being Amon. It was no coincidence that Amon's movements mirrored that of an airbender. It was no coincidence that Aang occasionally laughed in the same manner Amon did. And it was no coincidence that Amon taunted Zuko using Katara, a person Aang was having an affair with, or so he was manipulated to believe. The play was clear: raise concerns; the concerns that had dug their graves in his mind were the same ones he needed to reveal to his council before they started blaming Zuko for the whole ordeal. However, he never received the chance.

"Firelord Zuko, I think I speak for the council when I say that we've waited long enough," General Fang announced as he addressed his peers. "We must not remain passive. Amon has targeted this council relentlessly, and every day he continues to breathe is a day he tarnishes our reputation and standing within the world and our people. No one besides the Spirits can guess what he's got planned for Councilman Red, and we haven't the slightest idea when, or where, or who he might attack next. The investigation, led by Master Sokka of the Southern Watertribe, hasn't provided us with any useful insight, and we are no closer to stopping or capturing this… this clown than we were weeks ago." Sighing in irritation, the General steeled his eyes as his gaze fell upon the Firelord, "He must be dealt with. We must take action."

"Yes, we must," Zuko agreed, nodding his head absentmindedly as he regarded Aang from the corner of his eyes. It seemed that someone was just as suspicious and curious of the Avatar as he.

"If you don't mind me asking," began Councilman Zion, "but where were you last night, Avatar Aang?"

Suddenly, all heads turned towards the Avatar, regarding him with scrutiny while Fang snarled to himself, upset he was cut off before he could make his proposal.

"I don't mean to doubt you, Avatar, nor do I wish to get sidetracked… but I find it odd that Firelord Zuko requested your assistance in capturing Amon, yet on the same night he attacked us, you suddenly disappeared."

Murmurs from the other men in the room filtered out the warm breeze of the Fire Nation, and Aang kept his head dipped while Zion continued to question him.

"Avatar Aang? Do you choose to dignify this discussion with a response?"

"I was with Princess Azula last night," Aang smiled, casting Zuko a sideways glance as their eyes met for a split second.

The murmurs amongst the council members amplified in volume, and so did Councilman Zion's voice, "What do you mean you were with the Princess? And how does that excuse you from being unable to help Firelord Zuko and your friends when Amon arrived? Surely, once the attack occurred you'd have noticed - if not due to your impeccable airbending heightened sense of hearing, then by your earthbending seismic sense abilities?" When the Avatar remained silent, seemingly amused, Zion sought to poke, "Am I wrong, Avatar Aang?"

"As you all know, Lady Katara got a little too intoxicated last night," began Aang, panning his head across the room as he addressed everyone. "I didn't want her to embarrass herself further, so I walked her to her room. After helping her to bed, I intended to return to the party but was instead met with Princess Azula, who was equally as intoxicated as our future Firelady. That was also around the time that I began losing my sense of self, likely due to the alcohol I had consumed earlier. Soon enough, from what I recall, the Princess and I wandered into my room and… well, I'm sure you can guess what happened after that."

Wolfishly smiling to himself while the other Council members winced as they glanced at the Firelord, fearing the Avatar had played with his temper, Aang turned back to Zion as he elaborated. "Republic City Chief of Police Toph Beifong was also immensely intoxicated. As was Councilman Sokka."

"Where are you going with this?" Zuko asked, growing impatient and angry as he thought Aang was mocking him by lying – though, the idea that he may have been saving Zuko the embarrassment by not revealing it was actually his fiance Aang had spent the night with did enter his mind, but he didn't entertain the thought.

"Sokka, Katara, Toph, Azula and I - all capable fighters, might I add - all took shots from the same bottle handed to us by an unknown servant before the party began. And all five of us were immensely intoxicated before Amon's surprise attack, despite not drinking much at all - save for Toph Beifong. In fact, I had barely touched the booze last night. So, if I had to speculate, it is possible that someone spiked our drinks, thus rendering us useless when – "

"You're insinuating that someone within the Palace, someone who serves us, spiked your drinks?" Accused a member of the council, insulted that such a claim could even be made.

"Not necessarily," Aang answered calmly. "It could've been a servant, even though it is highly unlikely, or someone else entirely. Yet, do we not already have the knowledge that someone within this palace is feeding Amon sensitive information?"

'Yeah, you - because you are him,' Zuko retorted in his brain, biting his lip to keep from revealing the suspicions he wanted to.

"So, it's not entirely impossible that a servant, a trusted advisor of sorts… or maybe even someone in this room, has been the liability all along."

Sinking in his seat, Councilman Fang subtly gulped as he tried to draw as little attention to himself as possible, fearing his secret would be uncovered if he spoke up.

"Though, if you don't believe me, you can ask Princess Azula yourself," Aang grinned as he turned to Zuko again, "I'm sure she'd be willing to give you a detailed report regarding my… prowess."

A few members coughed or cleared their throats to stifle their chuckles and wipe their smiles at the Avatar's jab. Zuko wasn't amused though. Glaring daggers at the Avatar, he wondered exactly why Aang wasn't just revealing that he'd boned his fiance and was instead using his little sister as an alibi. 'Is he really trying to save me the embarrassment?' Then, he also recalled that Azula hadn't been present during the fight, or afterwards, either. 'Did he really not sleep with Katara? Was I just imagining things? No! No. I heard it all. I heard everything. He was fucking my fiance. And now, he's just mocking me!'

Zuko sat up straight and cleared his throat, retaining a neutral expression as he addressed his council. "Due to these unforeseen events, I need time to think and plan our next move. I also need to have a word with the Avatar. So, for now, this meeting is adjourned. We will continue this tomorrow and – "

"Excuse me, Zuko," General Fang interrupted him as he stood up, ignoring the glare he was receiving from the Firelord as he interfered. "But like I said earlier, we cannot continue to sit idly by anymore. Amon is winning and will continue gaining public support unless we take a stand and go on the offensive."

"Get to the point, Fang," snarled Zuko, his hands folded together under his chin as he seethed in his seat. Zuko didn't know why, but he really hated Fang.

"I have a proposal," General Fang answered, "with how distracted our Firelord has been lately, I suspect that if we continuously allow him to dictate our actions, we will indeed bow to Amon. And we cannot allow that to happen. We need a new leader. A new Firelord. Therefore, I am officially proposing, to the council before me, that tomorrow morning, we conduct a vote… on whether Zuko should step down as the Firelord… and I shall replace him."

They remained rock-like; unmoving while glaring at each other. Eyes locked, insults and accusations loaded. Mouths and tongues eager to open fire. But neither did for a while. Allowing the unbearable, heated morning breeze of the Fire Nation to flow through them, the Firelord and Avatar faced each other while the remaining council members agreed to Fang's request before leaving.

If Zuko wasn't already pissed off by the fact that Aang had been messing with him for weeks, was likely Amon, had slept with his fiance, and had just mocked him by claiming he'd fucked his sister too, then Fang's proposal had knocked him and his temper out of the dragon's pit. The dragon however, was already in a mood, and all Fang's disrespectful announcement did was set Zuko ablaze as he seethed with anger, anxiety, and dare he say, hate.

"Are you Amon?"

Aang took a moment to register what Zuko had asked him until he began laughing, thus further irritating the firebender.

"What's so funny?" Zuko asked impatiently, growling underneath his questions as he clenched his fists.

"It's just... after everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours, I thought Amon would be the last thing you'd want to talk about."

"And what else would be on my mind?" Zuko asked, clenching his fists tighter as Aang laughed again, annoying and angering him beyond what he thought capable.

"I thought you'd for sure ask me how your fiance tasted last night."

Zuko gritted his teeth as he growled deeply, dipping his head, though his glare remained trained on the grinning Avatar standing before him.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not," Aang continued, stepping closer to Zuko around the table as he grinned at the Firelord. "She tasted just as delicious as she did years ago – actually, even better. The way she screamed my name, scratched my back and arched at my touch… the way she begged for me to fuck her… I bet you've never experienced anything like that with her. Have you?" Aang challenged, his eyes growing darker by the second as he challenged Zuko's rage-ablaze heart. "Face it Zuko, she doesn't want you. She wants me. You were merely a rebound; the next best thing she could settle for. But now that I'm back, someone who satisfies her every need… someone she loves…" Zuko clenched his fists even tighter; his nails biting into his palm – the thought of punching the airbender became more satisfactory the more he spoke. "She has no use for you. She doesn't need to pretend anymore… because the truth is: she was pretending to merely like you, when in fact, she still loves me - well, if we're going by how she begged me to fuck her harder last night."

Aang began laughing maniacally while Zuko roared, grabbing the Avatar by his shoulders and shoving him into the nearest wall. Aang didn't react to the elder's ferocity, simply grinning while the Firelord growled at him. With one hand now clenching his throat, thus choking him, Zuko cocked his fist back, preparing to attack the grinning airbender when he surprisingly felt his hand encased in ice.

"Zuko!" Katara shouted from the door, swinging it open entirely as Iroh trailed behind her. "What are you doing?!"

"Let me go! He deserves this!" Zuko yelled back, unwilling to be restrained as he melted the ice using his firebending while Aang simply stood there, choosing to remain neutral as he allowed the scene to unfold.

"You will not lay a hand on him!" Katara protested, once again encasing the firebender's hand in ice as she momentarily gazed at Aang. All thoughts of him being Amon escaped her mind for the first time since this morning when she noticed his expression; he was staring at Zuko sympathetically - concerned, not for himself, but for his troubled friend. It was the Aang she knew. The Aang she loved. The Aang she refused to believe could secretly be a murdering psychopath.

"Nephew! Release him now!" Iroh commanded, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder as he attempted to calm the Firelord down.

Feeling the fire burning deep within him, Zuko huffed out smoke, growling in irritation and anger as he reluctantly released his hold on Aang's neck and took a few steps back. Glaring daggers at the airbender, Zuko saw through Aang's fake-concerned expression; he was smiling beneath that frown, eyes gleaming in victory beneath that concern. The others may have not realised it, but he certainly had. He was not going to allow Aang's mind games to affect him any longer.

Patting his back, Iroh turned the firebender around and escorted him outside. Along the way, Zuko refused to meet Katara's eyes, instead choosing to scowl when he passed her, brushing her shoulder harshly which caused her to stare at him, confused. As he left the war room with his uncle, Katara instead turned her attention back to the airbender. Earlier, she had decided to confront him. However, now, watching him rub his throat which seemed somewhat burnt, a confrontation was the last thing on her mind. Walking up to him, she removed his hand and analysed his throat herself. From a closer perspective, it was crystal clear that Zuko had burned Aang while he was choking him; the burn wasn't bad, nor irreversible, but she didn't care. He'd hurt Aang and she would have a word with him later.

"He burned you," Katara muttered absentmindedly, pulling water from a nearby vase and encasing her hand with it before she pressed it against his neck soothingly, the cool water glowing as its healing properties began taking effect.

"Thanks, Katara," her attention was then drawn to his face; his soft pink lips, his bright grey eyes, dagger-sharp jawline, shaggy, jet-black - with a few chestnut strands - hair... Katara shook her head slightly as she turned away, choosing to focus on healing him first instead of swooning.

"What was that about?" She asked, wanting to make conversation to clear her doubts regarding Aang, hoping his answers would prove the evidence wrong while also seeking to satisfy her curiosity.

"Oh, you know, the same old," he tried waving it off, but the arching of Katara's eyebrow destroyed his attempt at brushing it off. "He was upset about the attack last night, stressed about the council, and – you've heard the gossip, he saw you and I leaving together and thought that something happened… you know, since neither of us returned to the party last night."

Aang rubbed the back of his neck, feigning his old, shy behaviour, hoping it would fool her. Normally, it wouldn't, but Katara was too focused on healing him and listening to his explanation of last night's events to truly notice.

"What do you mean 'something happened'?" She asked, feigning ignorance – the meaning wasn't lost to her, she just wanted to hear his response, his thoughts on the situation. .

"He thought we slept together," the airbender answered bluntly, thus surprising the waterbender healing him. "I told him that was impossible since you fell asleep in your room immediately, and I basically spent the remainder of the night with Azula."

Katara's eyes widened as she felt a pang shoot up in her heart; the thought of him and Azula spending an entire night together brought upon an ugly emotion within her she thought she'd buried long ago. Apparently not, as she could feel it pulsing within her bruised heart.

"With Azula?" She asked, trying to hide the hurt within her voice. Aang nodded, so she continued, "What did you two do?"

"Not much," Aang shrugged, realising that the water had stopped glowing, thus indicating the healing process was complete, but Katara hadn't noticed since her head was dipped and eyes were downcast; her attention solely on their conversation now. "We just got more drunk, talked for a bit and passed out in my room."

'She slept in his room? With him?' His words were like thorns pricking at her heart, and she knew that all she had to do to prevent the pain was to stop prying, but she couldn't help herself; Katara needed a confirmation.

"Seems like you guys have hit it off," she observed, unable to keep envy from invading the fortress of her tone.

Aang smiled, relieved his plan was working. "Yeh, I guess we have. You two did too, kinda." He chuckled at the memory of an intoxicated Katara calling him 'hot' amongst the noblemen and women in the party last night. The horrified look on Zuko's face was also amusing. "She's actually a fun person to hang around with once she loosens up. I can see us becoming better friends the more we get to know her."

All at once, Katara sighed softly in relief. Hoping that Aang hadn't noticed her little moment, she peered up into his eyes as the waterbender hesitantly asked, "So, she's just a friend? You two aren't – like… you didn't – "

"Katara," Aang cut her off, cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb along it, marvelling at the smoothness and softness as he whispered and pulled her closer. "I told you before, and I'll say it again: there's only one girl I'm interested in."

Smiling despite herself, with the thoughts of him possibly being Amon eradicated from her mind for the time being, Katara began standing on her toes as she leaned into his touch.

"There's only one girl I've ever liked."

He drew her closer. And closer. And closer. She could feel his hot breath on her lips – comforting, familiar; home.

"Only one girl I'll ever love," he finished, gazing into her eyes pleadingly, choosing not to kiss her, instead allowing her to decide for herself. He would not force himself on her, not now. If she wanted him, she'd have to take him herself.

Katara too was having similar thoughts, imagining leaning in that extra inch and feeling those soft, full lips again seemed like a farfetched dream for years. Yet, now, it could be her reality. Deciding to do something about it, Katara cupped his face and began caressing him as he closed his eyes; his cheeks, his chin, his lips, and the tattoo on his forehead were all blessed by her soft caresses. Katara, in actuality, was simply displaying affection before leaning in to kiss him, however, due to her heartfelt caresses, she stumbled upon something…

Getting lost in the moment, Aang slipped up. He had forgotten that she was touching him, that she could feel him; his skin, and everything laying atop and beneath it.

Eyes widening, Katara faltered slightly when her fingers trailed over his forehead, brushing along the tattoo and beneath it, what she was sure felt like a scar. Realisation slapping her across the face, Katara returned to his cheeks, to his temple, feeling everything once again in controlled urgency.

'No. No, it can't be. It's not true.'

Her fingers continued to brush along his skin - some scars were more concealed than others. She whimpered at the thought, but her suspicion had been confirmed; those scars she felt on Aang were the same ones that appeared on Amon's face. A long stroke across the forehead, a couple short scratches down each side of his temple, a few long cuts along his jaw… she could not deny it anymore.

'Aang is Amon.'

Aang grew confused as he opened his eyes to see Katara backing away slightly. He wondered what had happened but didn't have much time to ponder on it as she had tackled him in a desperate, bone crushing hug. Surprised, it took him a while to respond, but eventually he wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his warmth.

"These past few weeks have been so crazy, don't you think?" She asked – 'her voice seems off,' he noted. "With Amon terrorising everyone and all the escalating gang violence and – Aang?"

"Yes," he couldn't decipher it at the time, but something was off. He was sure that Katara would kiss him. So, when she backed away slightly and hugged him desperately, he was entirely confused to say the least. 'Well, at least she's not running away from me or something. So, I'm still in her good graces. I can work with this.'

He hugged her tighter, offering her all the protection and warmth he could provide as she sighed into his chest. "What do you think of Amon, Aang?"

'Okay? Not what I was expecting,' he thought to himself. 'Could she possibly know? No, she doesn't. I was careful. There is no way she is sure; Zuko even alluded to it and she'd shut it down during their fight. This is something else. Maybe she's scared and is deflecting?'

"What do you mean?" His breath was warm, and she couldn't help but shiver pleasantly when it landed on her neck

"Like, what's your opinion of him? Do you agree with what he's doing? Or his cause?"

'Why is she asking me this?' Aang was compelled to question her sudden change in behaviour, from jealousy regarding Azula, to affection for him, to a sudden interest in Amon, but he didn't want to risk her retreating from him, avoiding him. Katara was crucial to keeping Zuko on edge, and if he lost her trust now, everything could go sideways.

'I'll play along for now,' he decided.

"I don't agree with his methods; taking a life, no matter the reasoning, is out of the question," Katara nodded against his chest, and he took that as an indication to continue. "The public is starting to believe in him more as every day passes, and... I do get the appeal – I mean, he's making them feel safer by eliminating the criminals that torture their families. However, my opinion is the same as it was during the war, no matter the cost, the ends do not justify the means."

Katara nodded again, tightening her hold on him while he rubbed her back. "Why do you ask?" He asked her.

She shrugged, "Just curious."

"And what's your opinion?" Aang questioned – the question was a calculated manoeuvre, and he was hoping she wouldn't evade.

"You want the truth, or some bullshit answer?"

He chuckled despite himself, "The truth, please."

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, stepping atop his feet as now her head rested directly underneath his chin. When he gave her a questioning look, she simply shrugged and dug her face into his chest again. "This is more comfortable," she answered his recent unasked question. "Honestly, I don't agree with his method, but I can't deny the results."

'Wait… she's agreeing? What on earth is going on? Who is this? Is this even Katara?'

"I mean, I've been in this nation for a while now, and the corruption I've witnessed… all the tears of those widows, the dead bodies of those children… Amon accomplished in a few weeks what Zuko's been trying to do for years now. Crime rates have been lowering, criminals are afraid of hurting the innocent because they fear Amon will kill them next – "

"So, you actually agree with what he's doing?" Aang asked, completely baffled – he realised a few moments ago that he couldn't sense her heartbeat properly because she was standing on his feet, and she was also wearing thick Southern Water Tribe clothing at that moment - odd for the Fire Nation heat - so he couldn't detect her heartbeat through close contact either. For the first time in a while, he was at a disadvantage.

"Not necessarily," she answered softly, "I don't condone murder. And I definitely think the way he achieved the results he did was immoral and that he should be imprisoned for it, but… I can't say that I pity those who've met his blade."

She held him tighter, digging her face into his chest as her hot breath cascaded down his body. Aang knew something was bothering her, and he understood that he'd need to uncover her troubles soon, but in that moment, he just tightened his hold on her and rocked them back and forth, relenting to her warmth and silent plead; for him to just hold her, for old times' sake.

Author Note: Yeah, I decided to release this chapter earlier. So, let me know what you guys think so far, I hope the story is still as entertaining as it was before. Things are really gonna start getting chaotic soon, so keep in touch. Anyways, the next chapter should be out in a week's time, but until then, leave a review and lmk what you guys think will happen next. Peace out.