Hardened Winds

Chapter XIX

Summary: Two years ago, Aang was betrayed by Katara, who fell for Zuko and ultimately led to the avatar's failure to defeat Ozai before summer's end. Hardened, the young airbender is now back with a full army and is on the verge of defeating the Fire Nation once in for all. Yet despite his belief of being in full control, nightmares of the past still haunt him. What will happen when Katara returns and a series of misunderstandings and more betrayals unveil? Will Aang be able to handle it all?

………………………………………………………………………………………………

He heard the horrible news as it traveled from person to person, from hallway to hallway, until it finally reached his secluded cell.

Fear momentarily gripped him, made him realize that he was running against time, but the useless emotion soon vanished, to be replaced by his usual fury and determination. Outside, he heard excited murmurs of the avatar's men, their words freely flowing to his ears as they all wondered what had possessed the avatar to just execute a harmless prisoner on a whim, as they all asked themselves what exactly their leader had done when he had been out… Meanwhile, his own anger, like white-hot lava bubbling inside him, only became more agitated, more eager to get out, and a small curse escaped his lips as he thought about…

The avatar.

The fool. The bastard. How dare he decide to just execute Katara now for all the public to know, when he had failed to kill her in secret? The boy was beyond low; his atrocious decision had sealed his own fate. Because the prince was sure that he would get out of this damn cell, that he would be able to intervene before the avatar could even lay a finger on the waterbender. And the moment he would set eyes on the coldhearted fourteen-year-old, he would tear him to shreds.

The avatar will be no more.

That would please his nation, he mused, smirking. The death of the young monk would perk up his people's spirits, wouldn't it? When he came back to the Fire Nation, he would resume his rightful place at the throne, and then… His mind halted, and he closed his eyes shut, scowling. He couldn't envision the distant future anymore, not after what his uncle had told him. Every time he tried to imagine himself, euphoric with the world in his hands, he instead heard Uncle Iroh's solemn words, reminding him, taunting him….

The firebender slowly opened his eyes. Now wasn't about the distant future. It was about Katara.

"I heard he's going to execute her at sunset…"

"That early?"

"I heard he's going to execute her before he goes to the prince…"

Sunset. So he didn't have much time, did he? He was unfortunately locked in the dungeons, so he had no access to windows that could have told him exactly what time it was. No matter, though. He would know when it would be the right time to escape, and when the ropes bounding his hands at last fell away after much struggling, the prince smiled. He held up a hand in front of him, his smile widening as fire soon erupted from his fingers, licking harmlessly at his flesh. In his mind, he saw these flames assail the avatar, eating through his skin, and the image seemed so real, so intense... that he knew he would not fail.

----- ----- -----

She was going to be executed at sunset today.

Somehow, the chilling fact did not surprise her, did not envelop her in sheer terror, because a part of her thought that she deserved it. Surprisingly, she didn't feel anything, only sensing an eerie calm brewing inside her, almost assuring her that she had nothing to be afraid of, that everything would be all right. That was anything but likely, though, she knew as she sighed and leaned on the damp wall, her eyes subconsciously darting to the window, registering what period of the day it was, how much longer she had to live…

She remembered his face. Aang's innocent, pale façade crying with unshed tears. That brought a fresh wave of guilt and shame upon her, almost drowning her with their contemptuous words, with her terrible realizations. She briefly wondered why she was feeling so bad now, when she hadn't felt nearly this awful the last time she had done something to him, when she had truly betrayed him… But she knew, and a part of her didn't wish to have this horrible knowledge.

Yet…. it was all a terrible misunderstanding, wasn't it? In truth, none of them –she, Sokka, nor even Zuko- had wanted to hurt him this way. It had only been a harmless attempt to free her. She knew that Aang wouldn't listen to any of them, though, if they tried explaining everything to him, and who could blame the airbender? So in a way, she didn't deserve to die, not for what she had just done, yet her execution… it had long been awaited for in the first place. Ever since she had prevented the boy from defeating Ozai two years ago. She had been lucky that Aang hadn't decided to kill her the moment he had learned from Sokka that she was residing in his castle.

Of course, she had taken her luck for granted, pushing it, stretching it, until the monk couldn't take it anymore, until… A single tear slid down her cheek. Funny how she was so stupid, especially for her age. She always learned things too late. She recalled the day when she had fought with her brother years ago, when he had been such an idiot and she had shouted at him with all her fury, her exasperation, all the while subconsciously using her waterbending to such an extent that the waters below them had become agitated, had threatened to throw them overboard… She remembered Sokka yelling at her to stop, to look at what she was doing, but she didn't listen… not until she cracked an iceberg, at least. She had been lucky, then.

She hadn't been so fortunate when it came to Jet, though. The jerk. She smiled bitterly at the memory, closing her eyes. She had been the last person to learn what the delinquent was truly up to, so convinced that he had been good, that she had had a right to have a crush on him. Even Aang (it hurt to think about him), so young, so trusting, had realized Jet's true nature before she had had. And once again, she was learning, but all too late.

The door opened just then. Avoiding her eyes, Sokka entered her cell, effortlessly tossing her the small basket he was carrying before immediately turning around, ready to leave.

"My last meal, isn't it?" she questioned him quietly, fingering with the basket.

Sokka had already had a hand on the knob, his back towards her, but when she threw her inquiry, he abruptly froze. His body stiffened, and although he still refused to say anything, she knew that he was listening. Seeing her brother again and knowing that it was perhaps the last time she would lay eyes on him, she felt pain mingled with happiness. Still, it was nice to have some company, even if it would be a little uncomfortable, she thought as she pulled a red apple from the basket.

"So fitting," she whispered, eyeing the fruit with mild interest. "It reminds me of a fairytale Mother used to tell us all the time."

Again, her brother remained silent, but a smile tugged at the girl's lips as she continued quietly:

"Once upon a time, there was a pretty but cruel girl. All the boys across the land wanted her hand, but what the girl wanted most was the perfect fruit. It sounded strange to her suitors, yet fruit was rare from where they come from, because their home was surrounded by ice… where fruit could not grow, could not prosper to beauty. Remember? One boy, though, went across the world to find what the girl wanted, finally finding the most beautiful apple, flawlessly round and shining red. It was a new fruit that no one had ever tasted before, but the boy didn't care. He returned to his love and gave her the apple, not knowing that the fruit was really poisonous.

"The moment she took the first bite, the girl began dying, feeling pain no one has ever experienced, and the last words she breathed…. condemned the innocent boy to death. A dark fairytale, Mother used to call it."

Sokka didn't say anything, but he bowed his head down, and Katara knew that he was remembering the story, their mother… everything the two were supposed to have let go. Thinking about the story made her feel nostalgic, and she wondered why it had suddenly sprang up into her mind, why she had been compelled to bring the fairytale alive once more. Perhaps she had wanted to share one last memory with her brother, to hold on to the past…. But her brother had other things on his mind, she knew: doubts, anger... There were questions swirling inside his head, making it hard for him to talk to her, and with a sigh, she spoke up the things she had wanted to forget about.

"Sokka, I'm sorry," she began softly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what Zuko had on his mind the moment he learned the Fire Nation fell. But you have to know that he never seriously considered it. It was just a reckless idea Zuko had, I'm sure he would have never… You know him, at least I know him. He gets carried away by his anger, shouting things he never means. And he never really put his plan into action. Every time he came to the castle, it was only for me, Sokka, I promise. He never tried laying a finger on Aang… And he stopped talking about it after a while, anyway. I thought he forgot all about it, at least until…"

She paused for a moment, uncertain whether to continue, but it appeared as if her brother knew what she was holding back, because he then nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I know you're probably so angry at me, and this time, I know why. You have every right to be, but…"

"You're right."

She blinked at him, bemused at how he had so swiftly interrupted her. The seventeen-year-old still had his back towards her, yet he was more relaxed now, she could tell.

"You're right," he repeated, sighing. "I have every right to be angry, and… I am. But it just seems so useless, you know," he shrugged, another sigh escaping his lips. "I just don't have the will to be mad at you, not when I feel that I should be beating myself up for what happened. I don't think… my anger will do anything, anyway."

"It's not your fault that everything happened like this. It's my fault. I was stupid about the necklace."

The boy finally turned around to face her.

"Yes," he said lightly, grinning a little. "You were stupid about the necklace. Girls and their jewelry," he then muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You know it wasn't just about that!" she almost snapped, but a moment later, she shook her head and laughed quietly. "But maybe it was…" she said pensively as an afterthought.

"Good thing I didn't give in to you."

"You were about to!"

Giving her a flat look, Sokka shook his head and sat next to her.

"You should have told me what Zuko wanted to do," he told her, looking into the distance. "But I hid a lot of things from people, too…. especially from Aang. I shouldn't have, either, so I'll be really hypocritical if I just yell at you now. Doesn't mean you should just take this lightly," he then added, giving her a warning look.

"Why?" she retorted. "It's not as if I'm going to live long enough to do anything, anyway."

She had wanted to get the reply out casually, almost in a joking way, but the moment Sokka heard her, he turned away and she knew she had made a mistake. For a long time, there was an uncomfortable silence, the two of them at loss of what to say, until her brother cleared her throat.

"All this time," he whispered, raising an eyebrow at her, "all this time I was trying to keep you safe –to make sure you didn't get yourself killed- and it all ends up like this. Figures."

"Thank-you, though. Thanks for everything you did for me. Because you didn't do… anything wrong."

Sokka looked bewildered, and a moment later, he opened his mouth as if to contradict her. Soon, though, he closed it, apparently knowing it was useless arguing with her and satisfying himself instead by gazing at her skeptically.

"I need to go now," he then stood up. "I'm going to try… to talk to Aang. To explain to him what happened. Not to say that I have a chance of convincing him to let you go," he told her gravely. "Or to trust me ever again, for that matter." He sighed.

"I don't expect anything," the waterbender said just as somberly.

"I'll… uh… good-bye, then," was all her dear brother could manage before he slipped from her cell.

Things were still… awkward between them, Katara mused, stretching and lying down on her bench. But still, he had taken his time to see her, right? She felt slightly better after his visit, but she had to admit, she also felt slightly worse. There was simply too much melancholy in everything. Oh, well. She thought about what was going to happen to her, and still death didn't seem so scary for the moment. There was no use getting scared and restless. The avatar would get what he wanted, and she hoped that his wounds would heal, that perhaps her death would be one good thing happening to him…

----- ----- -----

Sunset was approaching.

Already, the sky had become tinted crimson while its clouds stretched towards the sun, abandoning its pure white color as a shade of reddish gray descended upon them. The winds were calmer than they had been last night, and Sokka sighed as the cold breeze tingled his skin, making a small chill pass through his body. He was in his room, perched on his window and staring at the changing day through half-closed eyes. He knew that he had told Katara he would try to talk to Aang, but the moment he had entered the highest level, something… had stopped him from going any farther, and he had retreated back to his chambers.

Pitiful, he knew, closing his eyes and frowning. It had been apprehension that had prevented him from seeing the avatar, because he doubted he could have stood seeing his best friend's dejected face, that he could have tolerated the fourteen-year-old's cold tone as he dismissed him. He just couldn't do it. Not now. Besides, would his words truly make a difference? Would Aang… believe him? Perhaps, perhaps not. His friend was usually open-minded and forgiving, true, but how much could he be pushed until he reached the limit? Sokka had a sick feeling that they had crossed the line last night, when Aang had quickly come to the wrong conclusion, and maybe… maybe his friend needed some time alone before he approached him?

However, his sister's life was on the line. It wasn't likely that he would convince Aang to spare Katara's life (after all, both of them knew that she had already performed high treason, which was alone enough to get her executed), but… if there was the slightest chance to save his sister's life and he didn't take it… he would never forgive himself. Already, he doubted he would ever stop blaming himself for what had just happened, for the pain he had caused to his best friend, and he smiled bitterly when he realized that he himself wasn't a very forgiving person. He never had been, had he? He wasn't very trusting, either, he mused, remembering his first reaction to the boy in the iceberg a millennium ago.

He was taken back when he lifted his eyes and saw that the skies had become more darker, much redder, than they had been just moments before. Abruptly, he stood up, this time determined to see Aang, to at least try to talk to him. It didn't matter that it would be agony staring into those bleak, angry eyes of his, reminiscing about what he had done, but keeping Aang in the dark forever… that wouldn't help either. The more time the avatar was alone thinking about what he had seen last night, the more he'd be convinced that Sokka was an accomplice to the enemy. And we can't have that, can we?

Seconds later, the second-in-command strode out of his room, his pace so quick that in a matter of mere moments, he was standing in front of the avatar's door. Confronting the sophisticated wooden door ornamented with golden patterns, he faltered, uncertain once again on whether he was ready to face what was behind the door. No, he told himself sternly, I'm going to talk to him. Right here. Right now. Having gained back his confidence, he was about to grab the doorknob when all of a sudden, the door opened by itself, making Sokka stagger back in surprise. When he managed to stand upright again, Gloria was in front of him, wearing a quizzical expression.

"Why were you so close to the door?" she asked, amusement so evident in her tone.

"I can do whatever I want," the boy responded childishly, and the blond pulled a dubious face before laughing.

"Of course," she at last concurred, smiling.

"I'm going to see the avatar now, Gloria," Sokka then became serious, "please move aside."

Yet instead of listening to him, the woman's eyebrows furrowed and she bit her lip, a worried expression taking over her face.

"Anything wrong?" he inquired, starting to feel exasperated.

"The avatar doesn't want to see anyone now, Sokka," she told him rather gently. "He dismissed me before I could tell him what I wanted to say."

He should have expected this, he knew, but as the idiot he often was, Gloria's news came out as a blow for him.

"Did he actually say that he didn't want see anyone?" he said a moment later; maybe he could find a loophole.

"Yup."

This was not good news at all, and he scowled. For a tiny, brief second, his mind suggested that he withdrew, that he could talk with Aang another day, but he immediately waved off the option, keeping his ground. Aang didn't want to see him, anyway, he reasoned. A specific order didn't mean anything to him. Besides, he was the second-in-command. This was exactly the situation where special privileges came in handy, right?

"Please move aside," he repeated.

"Didn't you just hear what I said?"

"Yes," he nodded, "but I have something urgent to say to him. I'm sure he'll forgive me. I'm second-in-command, by the way," he crossed his arms, giving Gloria a mock authoritative look, "so I order you to step aside!"

"You can't order me to do anything," the waterbender gave him a condescending look, but she nevertheless listened to him this time. "He's not in the best of moods, Sokka," she warned him as she walked away, "so I hope you'll be careful with your words."

I will, he answered silently, entering Aang's room. When he looked at the familiar surroundings, he was strangely startled. He hadn't expected to see the same things he had seen in Aang's room the many times he had come here before. It was as if… he had expected his room to change, to transform according to his master's moods. It was stupid notion, he knew, but it made him feel odd, uneasy, when he gazed at the same, huge bed with its neatly tucked thin sheets and at the chestnut drawers at its usual location. It was strange that he had seen the exact same setting just days ago, when he had been on good terms with his best friend, and although everything was different now, the room had stayed the same, unaffected by what had happened.

His eyes then scanned for the young monk, and when he saw his best friend on the balcony, his back towards him and still oblivious of his presence, Sokka froze. He didn't know what to say anymore, how to begin, as he stared at the airbender. His situation was just… so uncertain. Yet he couldn't just remain immobile like this forever, could he? And the best way to start was always with an apology, he had heard. Taking a deep (but quiet) breath, Sokka took another step forward.

"Aang," he said, and he was thankful that his voice didn't waver. "I'm sorry."

He saw the younger boy become rigid, and in a second, he had whirled around. Horror flashed across his visage before his face hardened. With amazing speed, the avatar sauntered towards Sokka, and the other was momentarily bemused. However, when the fourteen-year-old swiftly passed him without a word, his surprise turned into desperation. He had to make Aang listen.

"Zuko wasn't trying to kill you!" he cried. "It was because of the necklace! I just didn't want Katara to be killed, and Zuko… he never meant it…"

He wasn't making any sense. He couldn't grasp the words that would make Aang stop, that would make him turn around and believe him. The other was already at the door, and when Sokka rushed to him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder, the avatar easily shook it off.

"I don't want to have anything to do with you now," his voice came out, quiet and cold. "I'll… deal with you later."

With that, the fourteen-year-old slammed the door shut in front of the face of his second-in-command, leaving the latter to feel more ashamed and disconsolate than he had ever been.

----- ----- -----

There were sounds coming out of the cell.

Muffled and so quiet that it wouldn't be too hard to be believe that they were imagined, the two sentries guarding the prisoner listened attentively to what was going on inside the cell, frowning in concentration and ready to take the captive on in case he tried anything rash. For a few moments, the soft, dull sounds continued, yet when they suddenly stopped, the guards only became tenser. The enemy could be currently planning for the final strike, quieting himself only to lure the two sentries into a false sense of security.

The two earthbenders faced the doors, their weapons drawn, and waited. Yet when moments turned to long, agonizing minutes and silence still reigned, the men gradually lowered their spears. Another few minutes passed by until they could relax again, even letting out a small sigh of relief. Nobody wanted to deal with a firebender, especially not the unpredictable heir to the Fire Nation throne.

Sadly, they barely had time to regain their breath when all of a sudden, the door burst open, and before the two guards could defend themselves, could cry out for help, the furious prince was in front of them, glaring at them both with his fiery golden eyes, and the last thing the men saw was a wave of enraged fire ready to engulf them…

----- ----- -----

Although the candles' fires were small, a calm, vibrant hue as its flames lethargically moving in a hypnotic dance, there was an intoxicating warmth in the grand prisoner's chamber, thick and suffocating. The shadows crawling everywhere in the room was darker –more dominating- as it hungrily reached out for the light, attempting to stifle it for good. As always the door was bolted shut, but there had been a few adjustments to the prisoner's chamber. Instead of the normal steel chair confining the captive, there were now two towering wooden poles. Thick ropes could be seen from the bottom and the tip of the poles, securely attached to the posts while they also paralyzed the current prisoner's hands and feet. Her limbs were stretched out, her arms forming a V shape behind her back while her feet were safely spread apart. The captive was completely restrained.

Leaning on one of the poles was the second-in-command, who kept casting worried glances to the prisoner. His small, imperceptible gestures irritated the avatar, who remained unmoving as he gazed at his prisoner with an expressionless face. He dearly wished that he was alone, without the other's perturbing presence, but Sokka had had done everything he could to secure his position here. He had proclaimed that he would be a witness to the execution before the fourteen-year-old could say otherwise, and when he had had a chance to dismiss the older one, it had been too late. Because it was normal for Sokka to accompany the avatar when it came to interrogating prisoners, and now, people expected that the second-in-command would also be besides him during executions.

Execution. It was a brutal, merciless word, sending pricking shivers to his spine. This was going to be his first official execution, but his warriors had already started throwing the word as if there would be more to come, as if the war hadn't ended, as if there were more blood to shed… Perhaps they had sensed a change in him, a darkness that had cloaked a part of him the moment he had come back from the mountains, filled with a new kind of black determination. To them, it was a small but solid transformation, but…

Let's get this over with.

He slowly began walking towards the girl, keeping his gray eyes fixed on her while viciously suppressing all the memories her kind face brought to him. She was looking at him serenely, her round, light blue eyes sorrowful but accepting, and he almost wanted her to be angry at him, to scream at him and prove to him that she was nothing but a terrible, horrifying monster. Then he wouldn't have to feel guilty, at least a little, of what he going to do. /then he would be able to come out of this with no regrets.

His heart felt heavy, about to fall any moment, and suddenly he couldn't stand gazing at her anymore. He swiftly turned away, and for a short-lived second, his eyes instead locked on another pair of cerulean ones, Sokka's. His friend… no, his former friend… his eyes were filled with regret and sadness, but the monk refused to absorb it all, to even think about forgiving the South Pole native. Not now. What he needed was to be alone, and the moment this was done, he would lock himself in his room, acquire some space, and hopefully he would gain some peace.

With a fluent gesture, his hand alighted, his fire tranquil and ready to eat through flesh. He saw horror and fear cross the waterbender's eyes before she bit her lips and closed her eyes, yet it was too late for her. Her fate had been sealed the moment she had decided to turn his back on him that fateful summer's end.

Why, Katara… why?

He scowled when he heard his own forlorn voice pierce through the chasm of his mind, bringing back the hurt that had so ruthlessly overtaken him when he had been the prisoner, the weak one lying on the patched cell floor. Closing his eyes, it took some time before he managed to completely shut the voice from his ears. This was what this was for, wasn't it? he wondered, glancing at the waterbender and then back to his own flamed fist. To at last drown the past down until it was unable to haunt him anymore. The downfall of the girl… it was supposed to be the final act to seal away everything.

"Good-bye, Katara," he then whispered, looking back at her one last time.

He heard something like a whimper from her, but when he drew back his fist, she stayed as motionless as ever. This should be easy, he thought, closing his eyes and prepared to give the blow that had finished Fire Lord Ozai… but… Katara didn't deserve that, did she? She wasn't as bad as him, she was-….

His thoughts were cut short when the deafening noise of the two doors kicked violently open crashed into his ears like a thunderous wave. When he turned around, his hand still on fire, he took a step back, his eyes widening, when he saw Zuko a few feet away from him, his own ablaze fist pointing menacingly at him.

"Make one move on Katara," he murmured dangerously, his eyes narrowed, " and I'll kill you."

The avatar could have fought with firebender. He could have pushed the firebender right back into his cell, even kill him with one swipe if he felt like it. But as he stared at the banished prince, who was risking everything for the girl he would have done the same years ago, he couldn't stand it anymore. Everyone else… they had something –someone- to hold, to cling onto… Katara and Zuko, they had each other, Sokka… he still had Katara, along with a certain other girl who had come to him not too long ago… But he was, he would always be…

Slowly, he let his fist fall to his side, the fire already extinguished from his hand.

"Do whatever you want," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I… don't care."

Suddenly, none of it seemed worthwhile. Katara didn't truly deserve to die, did she? And what would be the point of fighting with an infuriated firebender for something… he himself didn't believe in? Zuko would be fighting with passion, with purpose, but what about him? There was no point to anything of this.

He was…. breaking. The cracks within him widened, expanded until it let the cold and the hurt back out. Heat. Ice. His illness came back to him in full force, and he almost doubled over from the unexpected weakness that had so quickly seized him. He was remembering everything… the past, his nightmares… and the horrid images flooded his mind. He saw the three of them gawking at him in horror yesterday, and the agony burned through his chest… Katara, he saw her in front of him, smiling warmly as she stabbed him, killed him… And finally, Ozai's gaunt, feral face as he destroyed him, the Fire Lord's savage visage clearly saying that he would come to his own cruel fate…

Well, he was right, wasn't he?

In front of him, Zuko's fury slowly receded, gradually being replaced by an awkward uncertainty.

"I'll kill you," he whispered, and it was obvious that he was struggling with himself.

"Do whatever you want."

He was cold, shivering. Fragile, vulnerable, and dying. It didn't matter if he died now. He couldn't defend himself, he didn't want to defend himself… Control. He had lost it. Completely. The moment Zuko had come barging in, determined to save the waterbender, full of fiery purpose, he had lost everything he had tried desperately to clutch onto… He was acting stupid, foolish beyond reason, but he couldn't bring himself to care, to do anything. Malicious voices whispered in his ear, Sokka's pleading words from the afternoon, Zuko's righteous fury, Katara… her sweet, venomous excuses… and something from so long ago…

"I only want what's best for Aang."

"Yes… but what we need is what's best for the world."

And that was what they had gotten. The best for the world. Because the child Aang had given up everything, had sacrificed everything that had been his… But now, he couldn't give anymore. He couldn't… do anything. He was only fourteen, barely a teenager… why did people… expect so much of him? And he had tried so hard, hadn't he? He had tried so hard to rise up, to win…

A dull sound hitting the floor. It took a moment before he learned that it had been his own legs collapsing under his weight. He was so sick, trembling uncontrollably, but no one was supposed to help him, he was the one who was supposed to help others…

"Aang."

Someone was calling to him, but that couldn't be, could it? He was just… hallucinating, having these delusions that came from his trivial desires. And they must have taken total control of him, because a minute later, he could have sworn he heard someone sit down in front of him.

"Aang."

The disembodied voice was louder, yet somehow still soft and gentle, but he was too tired to look up and see nothingness stare back at him. That was until a hand lifted his chin up, and he was face to face with the prisoner he was supposed to have slain.

"It's okay," she murmured, smiling tenderly. "It's okay."

No, it's not, he told her silently, turning his head away from her. Because those were the exact words she had used when she had trapped him, captured him, and it was so painful to remember. He felt the tears starting to rise, but he tightly closed his eyes; the situation was already… bad enough.

And then she did the unthinkable. Before he knew it, she had him in her arms, cradling him as she began humming to herself. It was just like the last time, he thought, opening his eyes. He couldn't escape, and her heat pressed against him, solid and domineering. But… he could feel it now, the kind warmth slowly seeping into his skin, chasing away the cold and the voices. She held him tightly, her embrace closed and sincere, making him wonder why she was helping him, why she didn't just let him die like the rest of them…

"Aang, you have a fever," she then said worriedly, a hand coming to his forehead. "You're burning."

She sounded as if she was actually concerned about him, a meek, but amused voice said in his head. And a light feeling spread through him as he acknowledged the thought, every second becoming stronger. It was so familiar, this tingling sensation, and he remembered feeling a small dose of it before the betrayal, before he had succumbed to steady, yet empty control… Happiness. He had forgotten how it was, to be content and carefree. The emotion had died along with the twelve-year-old when he had been scarred.

"I'm sorry," the girl suddenly whispered, resting her hand on his. "I'm sorry for… everything I did. I'm sorry I made you so sad. I fell in love with the enemy, and I don't regret that, but I… I should have never turned my back on you. Not the way I did two years ago. I don't really know what I should have done then, but I know for sure that I shouldn't have hurt you bad. I could have saved you, but I didn't."

Words. They were only meaningless words. Insubstantial. Why was he being so childish then, believing them? But he was just a child, wasn't he? No matter how much he gave up, his youth, his right to be free and carefree… he couldn't change the fact that he wasn't what he was supposed to be. Grown-up. Invincible. But wasn't that… all right?

"You have every right to hate me, and I know you'll never forgive me," she went on sadly, hugging him more tightly. "And if you want to kill me, you can. I just wanted you to know… And you shouldn't be angry at Sokka. It was all a misunderstanding. He didn't betray you, and no one tried to kill you."

He felt something damp on his face. It was only when he put a hesitant hand on his cheek did he realize that he had been crying silently. The past, he had so far looked at it as a dark abyss that he had left behind, but he was presently starting to remember it wasn't so bad years ago, that he shouldn't just have left it behind. He should have had… overcome it…

And he believed her. It even bewildered him that no doubts sprang into his mind, even though a lot of things were still left unexplained. The ugly picture of yesterday lost its spiteful glow, and although he knew he was still hurt, he was feeling better, recovering. There were footsteps coming towards him, and a moment later, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We've got your back," Sokka's quiet, real words reminded him of the day in the Southern Air Temple, when he had had hands to hold onto, and maybe… he still did…

For a long time, there was nothing but silence hanging in the thick air of the prisoner's chamber. But finally, the child looked up to them both, who were gazing at him with worry and love.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: Yes, that was the climax. And no, there was practically no violence whatsoever. And yes, I do have a shield so you can't throw any tomatoes at me. (Cowers behind her shield as tomatoes are thrown.) Somehow, when I edited this chapter, I felt that the climax is all right, at least not a total disappointment, but a part of me is screaming in my ears and saying that I should have inserted some sort of violence to make the climax exciting. Please tell me that my insane side is wrong and that violence does not make a climax good. This chapter wasn't a total let down, right?

After all, it's all very believable and reasonable (I hope). Aang is only fourteen and he has shown to be exceptionally strong in my story if he almost went as far as killing Katara, even about to do it if Zuko hadn't barged in at exactly the right moment. Also, he is essentially a mellow character, no matter how much he tries to cloak it because of the demands of his duty.

Besides, as some people have pointed out, haven't I tortured the huggable monk enough? (Hugs Aang and dodges as more tomatoes are thrown.)

If you are seriously unsatisfied with this chapter, feel free to review or tell me in your own special way (besides trying to viciously assassinate me, that is). And now that Aang has found happiness (hugs Aang again), the story is (obviously) almost done. But please hang around; the conclusion is worth waiting for.

Review if you're nice.