Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction
Arrrgh what to do what to do? Pretty much used healing last year with my prompt "Soft," so that's a no go. Hmm...
There were the times Katara loved healing.
A scrape fixed with a few drops, a steady hand, and some gentle words. A broken bone gaining satisfying traction on the long road to recovery, resuming its former shape, bit by bit, under Katara's patient guidance. A mortal wound fixed just in time by her raw potential and power, along with some convenient special water. The positive impact her healing had improved people's lives all over the world, and even if she was just one person, the fact that she had helped so many people brought her joy and satisfaction, and gave meaning to her life.
Then there were the times Katara hated it.
Or rather, hated being confronted with the ever-present reminder that even though she was capable and accomplished, she was still mortal and human, and so were her wards. Nothing pained her more than having to alleviate the pain of one slowly but inevitably slipping away, or having to accept that something was beyond even her distinguished bending, or even being able to do nothing at all. Cases like these were few and far between, but every time they happened, Katara could almost feel the pain, the death, the agony, bearing on her body and her heart, bringing her pain like nothing else.
Then there were the times Katara had to heal Aang.
It was a sort of love-hate relationship. Loving the fact that she was helping him, healing him. Hating the fact that he was hurt in the first place. And then there were the moments she wasn't entirely successful. Like the permanent angry splotch of energized fire on his back. Or the tiny yet still noticeable scar on his foot. She took these as perpetual reminders that she was not infallible, and neither was her husband.
But this... this was too much.
If she could call it anything, it would be a time where her gift was a curse, where she could do little other than relieve Aang of a small amount of the weariness and pain he felt all the time. It was not her fault - the iceberg had to happen to be where she had been - but to see him in such pain, it might as well have been her fault.
He already looked as though he had aged a decade since their anniversary a scarce few months ago. White beard, more wrinkles than she like to count, and the constant weeping that drew no tears, as though Aang did not even possess the capacity to shed tears. And this upset her more than anything.
Her healing could do nothing.
She had tried everything, spending all of her in their bedroom, almost no sleep, like the old days when he lay nearly dead from Azula's wound. But now was final, for even if wounds could never kill, old age certainly could. And counting Aang's time in the Iceberg, he was well over one-hundred sixty. Which meant she had over six decades with him, filled with fun and love and all the things she had missed before and would come to miss again.
She bit back a sob as she stared at his prone figure.
"N-now, Sweetie," he said, succumbing to the coughing before he could continue, each garbled hack like a knife through Katara's heart. "Don't look at me like that. I still have some fight left in me."
"Y-you can barely stand," Katara said miserably, eyes flicking to the stationary glider-staff that was relegated to walking-stick status.
"But I still can. By this point, I think we should just enjoy what I have left," he mustered, bravado failing to hide his internal turmoil and mortality.
She shook her head. "I know you love optimism, and - so do I, but - how? When reality looms so close that you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel?"
"I can still see you," Aang said with enthusiasm.
"Aang!?" she said, flustered yet still glowing from his words that she would soon come to never hear again.
"You know it's true. You're my light. You're the source of my optimism. After all," he said with a faint glimmer of humor. "If you married someone like me, who knows what else could happen!"
"It's not like there would have been any other choice!" Katara snapped, appalled. There was only him. Sure, there were definitely attractive males she may have hung out with a long time ago, but none of them were Aang, savior of the world and keeper of her heart. Of course, he had his flaws, and Katara oftentimes found herself leashing Aang even more so than she used to leash her brother, but... she loved him.
And he was slipping away.
"Even then... meeting someone like you... was a one in a million chance. Something that would happen once in a hundred years - or less. I was so happy, when you were the first face I saw. Even with so much time gone, you softened the blow, smoothed the transition... and you were a most amazing friend, healer, girlfriend, fiancé, wife. Person. You were everything, you were beautiful, and you were amazing."
"But I can't save you," Katara said numbly.
"You aren't supposed to. No human escapes death, although Momo might be another story." Despite herself, Katara found herself chuckling at her husband's humor. "See, that's how it's supposed to be. No crying. No mourning. Just... a celebration of the life we had, the life we lived, and fondly looking back on the old times and meeting the new with a light heart. This reality - " he gestured weakly towards their bedroom, propped with generous sunlight thanks to Katara's many exhaustive efforts. "- it's not ideal. I'll admit that. And it'll only get worse. But Katara - thank you. For everything." Katara buried her head in his chest. Stroking the tip of her hair, he continued, "And despite you thinking that your healing does nothing, it does a lot. I don't feel the pain as much, and it makes me feel lighter. Happier. Knowing that you care, and that you help me at my lowest point."
"That's what I do. That's what we both do. Isn't that what love is about?"
"Then help me. Be happy. We still have some time together. Let's spend it the best we can. And maybe... try to prolong it?"
Biting her lip, Katara nodded, and returned to healing him. She hummed as she did her best to make sure that whatever time they had left, they stretched it as long and best they could.
Short. Sorry. Next!
