A/N Prompt: "i can't lose you again!" or "you can't save everyone" for kataangst? possibly with a happy-ish ending?
"You can't save everyone."
The words hit her like a blow to her chest, like a dagger to her heart. It isn't so much that the words themselves hurt her the most.
What hurts the most is that Aang sounds like he is giving up.
(and she knows, she knows, she knows he is right, knows it in the very bones of her body)
(but he's wrong too)
(maybe she can't save everyone, but she can save him)
"Maybe not." Her voice breaks, but she balls her hands into a fist, willing her despair to inflame into anger, and she glares at him even as saltwater blurs her vision. "But if you think that'll stop me from saving you, you've got another thing coming."
Aang chuckles. It is a tired chuckle. A weary chuckle. A little sad, too. "You can do so much, Katara. More than I ever could." He raises his eyes towards her, and her heart breaks at how tired, so very tired his eyes are. "But not even you can stop death."
And then the wet warmth of her tears runs down her cheeks, a sob forcing its way from her throat, and before she knows it, she is being cradled in Aang's embrace, her head pressed against his chest and his arms encircling around her form.
(and she hates this, hates how he can make her feel so helpless)
"Katara." His voice carries an infinite gentleness in them, a loving understanding that always makes her feel known, which only makes his next words worse. "Let me go."
For a second, just a split second, Katara almost wants to. She hears the infinite tiredness in his voice, sees the pain in his eyes, feels the weight of a thousand lifetimes pressed down on him—a crushing weight he will never be able to shake.
There is nothing more she wishes than to take all his pain and burdens away, to set him free from this crushing weight.
But then, pressed up against his chest, she hears the faltering thump of his heart, feels his soft breath stir against her hair, hears his ragged inhales scrape deep in his chest.
She hears his laughter, tastes his lips, feels his gentle touch, sees the life and everything living dancing in his gray eyes, those gray eyes she had fallen in love with, all those years ago.
And she knows that as long as his heart beats with even the faintest rhythm, she will fight for him.
"No!" Katara shoves him away. She glares at him even as her tears fall. "I can't lose you again! I won't lose you again!"
She drops to her hands and knees, only distantly aware of the sheer absurdity of her actions. She presses her hands against the ground, as though drawn by some deep-seated instinct to do so, running her hands frantically up and down, over and over again.
"Katara—" Aang starts, then stops.
Katara has also stopped. Between her two hands lay a circular orange light that pulses rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. The light flickers weakly with each pulse, but its glow strengthens as Katara reaches for it.
Katara isn't entirely aware of her actions, only that the pulsing light feels oddly, comfortingly familiar, as though she has seen it a thousand times over and will continue seeing it a thousand times more. It draws her in, washes over her with a calm that dispels all the grief and despair she had felt not seconds ago.
Her fingers press against the light.
The orange flares into a brilliant, almost white light that blinds her. Katara recoils, shielding her eyes and squeezing them shut—
—and finds herself back in the healing hut. She blinks out the black spots dancing in her eyes and looks around. Everything is still in place: the guest chairs, the jars of medicinal herbs, even the windows.
And Aang…
Her breath catches in her throat.
He is sitting up in his bed, examining his hands with a wonder that almost brings tears to her eyes. Every single trace of his slashes and burns are all but gone, leaving only faint white scars that stretch over his torso.
And his eyes…
Aang looks up and locks eyes with Katara.
And then Katara finds herself laughing and crying, tears streaming down her face and her mouth stretched in a grin of its own accord, as she flings herself at him, knocking him back into the bed. She presses her lips against his, and she can feel his desperation as he scrabbles to respond to her.
Katara pulls away slightly to scan his face. "It's all gone," she laughs—or sobs, she can't tell, and it doesn't matter to her. She pulls Aang's arm towards her and examines his skin. "You're completely healed!"
Aang nods slowly in amazement, looking at her with something close to awe. "You… you brought me back." His voice is a whisper.
Katara can't hold back the laugh-sob that erupts from her throat. She encircles Aang's neck with her arms and leans down, touching their foreheads together. "Of course," she says, her voice thick with tears and her mouth a huge grin. "I will always fight for you.
"Always."
