Rating: G

Words: 742


He was rising in the air, his tattoos and eyes aglow with the blinding blue-white light that indicated he was in the Avatar State. But this time, unlike the raging storm it normally was, he was calm. In control.

And she was so, so proud of him. She knew, without a doubt, that he would protect her. He would be able to get them both out safely.

That's when everything went wrong.

Katara gave a soundless gasp of horror as Aang writhed in the air, cruel tendrils of lightning crackling across his body. Her world splintered around her, her reality shattering, because there was no way it was Aang who was dying right now, no, no, not Aang, the boy who asked her to penguin sled with him and made her giggle and laugh without a care, the boy who had brought meaning back into her life and took her across the world to learn to be a waterbender, the boy who stuck by her through every high and low, the boy who smiled too widely for his own good with a heart too big for the world to deserve and a laugh too lighthearted to be touched by war.

Aang can't be dying, because he was everything living, because he breathed life back into her.

And yet there he was, writhing in the air, mouth gaping in a silent scream and features twisted in agony as whips of electricity streaked through him. Katara realized she was silently crying, tears falling down her face, but she didn't care, couldn't bring herself to care about anything except her best friend, who was in agony and alone and dying.

No, no, no—

And then he fell.

A frenzy seized her, and she called upon the water all around her, not caring about anything else except that she had to get to Aang. The water responded in tandem, and she surged forward on the wave, reaching, reaching, reaching—

But she was too far.

No, no, no—

Aang hit the ground with a horrifying crunch!—

And Katara shot up, a screech tearing at her throat.

Her legs tangled in the sheets on the bed as she tried to rip off the covers, and she fell back onto the bed with a resounding thump. She surged up again, clambering around the bed blindly, trying to find the other side.

She was only vaguely aware of her fast and shallow breaths and of the cold tracks on her cheeks, only seeing Aang, his eyes blank and empty, empty, empty, his chest still and motionless and oh spirits, the blood seeping out from underneath him, and he can't be dead, can't be, can't be, because she doesn't know what she would do without—without—

A pair of warm arms encircled around her, trapping her in place. Panic crawled up her throat and blinded her, and she struggled fiercely against them before she realized there was a familiar voice, hushing her gently. That voice … it's—

"Aang!" Katara sobbed. She immediately turned around and lunged towards him. Her arms wrapped around something warm and breathing and alive, and relief like that nothing she's ever felt before washed over her.

She … she wasn't too late. He was still here … still here with her.

Aang's arms wrapped around her again, and she buried her face into them, trembling. His voice was soothing, warm to the core. "Hey, hey, it's okay … it's okay, Katara, I'm here, I got you." He repeated the phrases over and over again, stroking her hair, and soon, Katara felt her previous panic ease away, her fast, shallow pants calming into slow, deep breaths.

They sat there for a minute in the dark, just holding each other. Aang kissed her forehead gently, and Katara settled against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and hearing the steady thump of his heart.

Aang was the first to break the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Katara snuggled deeper into his arms. "Just a nightmare," she muttered against the skin of his bicep.

Aang was quiet for a moment. Then: "Are you okay?"

Katara considered his question. Is she okay? Her heart was still thumping loudly in her ears, and her muscles trembled with tension, but here, in his arms, she felt safe and reassured.

She wasn't too late.

Katara leaned forward and kissed his bicep. "I will be," she murmured, "thanks to you."


A/N I really, really, really liked this one when I wrote it.