"Katara, close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just do it," Aang says, leaping up from where Katara had knocked him over for what felt to her like the hundredth time - she's lost count by now. "I wanna show you something."
Standing with her ankles submerged in the squishy Ember Island sand, the water warm and pleasant by her calves, Katara narrows her eyes. "Do you really think the fact that I can't see is gonna stop me from obliterating you at a water fight, Aang?"
Aang rolls his eyes. "Come on," he says, "please?"
"Alright, fine," Katara says, following his movements warily with her eyes. The white sand sticks to his bare knees.
Aang gives her a pointed look. Reluctantly, she closes her eyes.
He approaches her slowly. Katara can't help but squint one eye open for a moment to try to gauge what he's playing at, but Aang is quiet, almost pensive. Hm. Suspicious.
"Okay," Aang says finally. "Make sure you stay there," he says, looking at her feet. "And remember, keep your eyes closed."
Katara finally does close her eyes, moved by his seriousness, holding her breath. They're standing halfway into a beautiful rockpool at the edge of one of the island's bays - there's nothing but turquoise water for miles, and today has been filled with nothing but spectacularly silly waterbending experiments. For days, they've been out here with Sokka, Suki, Toph, and a few others. And even though Zuko couldn't make it from the mainland due to his busy schedule, having most of her old friends together, far away from her duties in a lush landscape has been heavenly. And today, alone with Aang, is proving to be even better.
Almost alone. She can hear Toph and Sokka bickering over their berry ice cream, all the way up near the beach huts.
Still, it's the perfect break away from what has been a turbulent few months of work, mostly involving setting up institutions around Republic City; from copycat houses of healing like the ones that she started years ago at home, to bending schools catering to all three types of bending and beyond; not to mention the orphanage which was a headache and a half to write the legal documents for. As more and more residents flock to the City, barely a decade old, Katara finds herself becoming more invested in the wellbeing of its citizens. She wants to have her mark on it. A place for everyone, regardless of tribe. It really does feel like they're on the verge of a new era.
The gentle breeze carried in by the water rustles through her hair, already drying from the hard sunlight. She can smell the salt. It's cool and comforting, as is the constant sound of the waves, and the birds high above. Katara waits with her ears perked, ready to jump into action at the slightest provocation from Aang.
Slowly, a sound of water rushing begins, at the height of her waist. It gets louder and louder, until it feels like it's surrounding her from all corners, above and below. The noise reaches a deafening peak before subsiding all of a sudden.
"Okay," Aang says finally. He sounds winded. "Open your eyes."
Katara gasps.
Although they were standing a few metres into the shallow pool just minutes before, now there's only clear, blue water all around. It surrounds Katara like moving, liquid walls; alive, rippling with a crystal clear view of the myriad of colourful creatures and plants that live below the water. It curves high above her head, too, letting in a brilliant stream of sunlight that glitters when it pierces through the water, lighting up every crevice of the pool.
They're standing right in the middle of a vast, transparent whirlpool.
Katara exhales. "Oh - wow," she says, feeling a little dumbstruck.
"Do you like it?" Aang says, shy like a child.
"It's so beautiful." She turns around, and around again. She can hardly get enough of the view. In every space she looks, something dazzling catches her eye, above all, the luminous water, caught in the sunlight and glowing with colours that are almost unreal. "Why?"
Aang grins at her expression."Now we're alone," he says. His face becomes serious quickly, however, and he hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. "I- uh. I wanted to ask you something important."
Oh. That. Maybe -? Katara breathes in sharply. Or maybe not, there are a dozen kind of important things he could be referring to. She tries to keep her heart beating right.
"I know we always said we would," Aang starts. "Always, at some point. But this is me asking you, right now, Katara." He pauses, taking both of her hands in his.
Katara's eyes widen. She has to stop herself from blurting out her response before he's even said the words.
He breathes in deeply. "Let's get married."
"Aang! Yes!"
She throws her arms around him exuberantly, the force of her movement causing Aang to stumble. The tall curve of water around them wavers when Aang is thrown off balance. "Oh - argh! - no," he says, falling, but it's too late. Katara turns in panic, heaving her strength, just in time to disperse the water as it falls over them, before it can flatten them.
They end up getting the breath knocked out of them, but not much else. Aang is laughing hard, once he stops coughing. Katara joins in, climbing her way through clumpy sand, and wipes a sopping pile of hair away from her eyes. She kisses him long and hard and hugs him even longer. Eventually, the distant sound of Sokka's unmistakably dramatic retching and a disturbingly loud whistle (Toph, no doubt) pry her attention away.
Katara pulls away and just grins, holding his face in her hands. They help each other stand, and Katara can't seem to look away from him. She pulls her long hair over one shoulder and focuses on getting a precise stream of water to draw the sand out of it.
Aang coughs again, with a grimace that tells Katara that there's sand in worse places. "Sorry about that," he says. "Probably should not have asked life-changing questions standing inside of a giant whirlpool I made."
"You idiot," she says happily. "How are you the master of all four elements?"
Aang frowns in mock hurt. "Now you sound like Zuko."
Katara smirks, tilting her head. "Thought you'd like that?"
"Maybe I do," he says testily. "Maybe I'll go become Princess of the Fire Nation instead."
Katara laughs. The sun, blissfully warm on her face, can't match how bright she feels inside. "Let's go tell them," she says.
The rain has come back with a vengeance. The deafening clatter that was so hard to tune out only a few days ago seems like background noise now. Katara runs the short distance from the hospital and down the path to the adjacent guesthouse, an arm in front of her to bend away the heavy droplets. By the time she reaches the main door, her feet are soaked regardless. She stifles a yawn, shutting the creaking door behind her, and collapses in front of it immediately to peel off her shoes. She should have brought some sealskin boots when she came here. Goodness knows she's too tired to try to bend away every puddle in her way.
Standing, Katara quickly removes her hospital overshirt, unties her stiff hair, and walks to her chambers. Her first stop is the room where Aang lies. She does what she's been doing thrice a day for the last four days: checks his temperature with her hand (pausing at his forehead), pulse (wrist), and airs and smooths down the light layer of blanket covering him (heart, unnecessary.) The air today is stagnant, a feeling of being trapped inside even when she's outside. Even in this room, the three different mechanical fans dragged back from the hospital do little to shift the stifling heat.
Nothing is going to happen to Aang's body. Experience has shown her that when someone's consciousness is in the Spirit World it leaves the body untouched - protected, almost - as long it's kept safe. The heat won't touch him.
What experience hasn't shown her is how to proceed when someone doesn't come back for four days.
No one here is knowledgeable enough on these matters to know what's happening for sure (Aang would probably have the best clue), but it's not hard to put it together. When Aang was found - in the wake of the aftershock - there wasn't a scratch on him. The earthquake itself indicated the presence of a Spirit close by, as Katara knew from their most recent conversations, and as she had tried to explain to the Daoshu leaders.
They hadn't been far from each other when it happened. Aang was probably a few streets away from her. The damage wasn't as bad as it looked, either. The temporary decorations from the festival came down in a hideous blur, but they weren't made of brick or stone. Almost everyone in town was outdoors, thanks to the festival too. A few dozen injuries and no deaths.
Katara closes her eyes. Four whole days. Once the sound of Aang's heartbeat, rhythmic, pressed to her ear, finally overpowers the chaotic patter of rain outside, Katara pulls away. She puts out the lamp in the room and leaves to go to bed. Tomorrow, she's going to send one of her healers with Appa to the North. She can't sit around useless until her options are exhausted. Right now, her best bet is water from the Spirit Oasis. Even the Avatar's soul can't last away from its body for so long.
In her usual quarters, Katara flops down onto the bed with a sigh. The energy leaves her body like water seeping through sand. The week has been tiring and it feels like she could sleep for days. It's difficult to get Aang out of her head even when she's working on patients.
And to think that she had been daydreaming that morning - mere moments before it happened - about someone else entirely. She can't help but feel stupidly, selfishly like she had some hand in this. A sign for her. Mocking her and guilting her.
Katara lies down and pulls her hair away from her neck to get some relief from the cool pillow and tries to think about the day planned tomorrow. There's a gathering of physicians and healers in Daoshu, to have a progress meeting of sorts. She's going to go to that. She had argued a little too vehemently with the healers in Daoshu to bring Aang here and keep him here - it would be good to go back and liaise with them, to show there's no hard feelings, regardless of how much she would rather not have to concern herself with any kind of reporting right now.
Katara sighs and turns. The sticky heat is worse tonight, and the rain, too, feels louder. It isn't natural rain. The seasons here are like clockwork, and they're weeks past the monsoon. Her best guess is this is something to do with the Spirit disturbance. She rubs her hands over her eyes and digs the heels of her palms into them.
She doesn't want to be thinking about the rain.
Zuko didn't come today, like he did the past couple of days. He was the one that had brought Aang over on Appa while Katara dealt with the injuries that had happened on site. And he was the one monitoring him while Katara worked, all day on the first day, and a good while on the days after.
But the long-awaited fleet from the Fire Nation was scheduled to arrive this afternoon, so Zuko, of course, was attending to that. Reconstruction in Daoshu City would start soon. All of that, happening out there just in the next town, sits strangely in Katara's head. Only last week she had been filled with bold curiosity, like something was burgeoning, at this new alliance of countries, yet now, she can't muster up a feeling more significant than her annoyance flaring at the stupidly loud rain on this stupid tin roof.
She tries to think about something else. The patients in the hospital are doing remarkably well. A girl she had been tending to from the start - two broken bones and an infection from coughing up dust in her lungs - Katara had seen in the cafe this morning, back at her usual job. It warmed her heart so immensely; though by now, that particular feeling seemed like a hundred years ago rather than a mere twelve hours. She knows her healers are going to be out of here in a few weeks.
Once Zuko has overseen the beginnings of the reconstruction project, his job would be done too. And Aang - well. She squeezes her eyes shut and hopes against hope that he's somewhere now, getting something done, and not -
Katara tries to close her eyes and focus on the fan whirring in the corner of the room.
It doesn't matter. She keeps coming back to the same thing.
Zuko. Her fists clench where they are, frustration digging her nails into her palm. She resents his diligence. He's been here every day, for goodness sake. She's had to see his face every single day.
She knows she made a mistake with the bloodbending. She knows. And the knowing only makes it worse, because she would do it again.
It didn't feel like a mistake with Aang at her back, literally, and despite the storm in her stomach that night it didn't even feel like a mistake the day after. She wished Aang had said whatever he was going to say.
Because now she's alone. And guilty.
A teenage crush is one thing, and even what remained of it afterwards was harmless. It was fun. She believed so strongly that whatever passing fancy she had felt over Zuko once upon a time had morphed into the deep affinity that she felt for him. A true friendship.
But whatever the hell went on that night won't stop haunting her - she has to admit she was egging herself on. It was morbid.
And no matter how she spins it, what can she say to herself, when her husband lies in a damned spirit coma in the next room and all she can think is how candescent she feels over their mutual, dearest friend?
She is not going to bear a grudge against Zuko over this. No - she can't. Not with everything he's ever done for her.
She misses the times when they could just all sit and joke together. Her and Zuko and Aang. Not that those times have gone anywhere in particular, but she can't help but feel like some boundary has been crossed. She sighs. She's going in circles. Sleep. You need the energy.
Ugh. It's pointless.
Katara sits up, and decides to bring herself a glass of water from outside. It's lukewarm. Distracted, she freezes it on her first attempt to cool it down, and spends a frustrating few seconds bringing it back to a drinkable temperature. She drinks fast, thirstier than she thought she was.
Nothing to say of Aang in all of this. She stops, mid-sip. Bizarrely, she actually doesn't know what he would make of this issue (alright, not this issue, in its weird intensity, but the idea of it, maybe). There are times where she's been so close to wondering about him - that morning included. Times when she has been so close to the brink of breaching that subject, only her own incrimination in the matter stopping her. It would be impossible not to wonder - he isn't the kind of person who's good at hiding anything.
But no. Aang would tell her if he actually harboured any feelings like that for Zuko. Certainly before she told him, right? There are people in the water tribes that look down on that kind of affection, but she knows from Aang that the air nomads never begrudged anyone any kind of lifestyle. They didn't even live in regular families. Aang definitely wouldn't pay that any mind. The way he talks about Zuko to her normally is only a breath away from devotion anyway (something Katara never fails to make fun of) and it would take someone much less perceptive than her to read the unwavering loyalty to Zuko that simmers underneath that, the kind that Aang reserves for few things outside of his values and - well, her.
Would it absolve her if he was feeling the same way, too? What would they even do with that knowledge?
And here she is, actually, really, truly pondering on the possibility of something like that. She needs more sleep than she thought.
Daoshu is surprisingly sunny. The sun is setting as she rides back with her fellow healers in a carriage; the sky glows orange, not a cloud in sight. The physicians' meeting in the morning showed great progress - understandably more in Daoshu than Bakai, but even then only slightly; Katara notes proudly that her healers have almost been a match for the drastic difference in infrastructure. She herself is in the clear with the Daoshu healers, too, and the sympathy from them over Aang has bolstered Katara's will greatly - she feels much more optimistic than the night before. She's always been the kind of person that responds to compassion over anything else.
Her good mood doesn't last.
When she comes back to the guesthouse, Zuko is there judging by the peculiar sound of a dragon's huffing coming from the direction of the clearing behind the compound, as well as a physician from the hospital that she doesn't recognise. She's mildly annoyed when she is ushered into a corner by him the moment she enters, but a glance at Aang shows that Zuko is with him, and she eases a little.
"Master Katara," the physician says urgently. "While you were gone, there were some changes in Avatar Aang's state. He's running a high fever suddenly. We don't know what might be the cause."
Katara catches him eyeing the scene, no doubt taking in the peculiar sight of Fire Nation high royalty tending to the Avatar inside a common Earth Kingdom guesthouse.
The worry lining his brow is genuine, however, and Katara feels regretful for her annoyance, though she hasn't shown it. It feels like everyone is on her side except herself. He lets her know what they can bring for him - fans, herbs, cloths to cool if necessary - and Katara lets him know that she's trying to get hold of Spirit Oasis water for what it might do, in return. Once he bows deeply to the both of them and takes his leave, she turns to Zuko.
"You're back so soon?" she says, by way of greeting. With Zuko at his head, Katara makes to take the space left on the sleeping mat next to Aang's legs.
He watches her sit with a curious expression. Katara pauses - oh, right. It's not their usual greeting. Maybe it would be better for her head if there was no hug today. She sits down cross-legged, pulling her skirt over her knees self-consciously.
Zuko says, "The meeting ended pretty early today. The Mayor wanted to get to debriefing the new workers as soon as possible, and apparently, they don't need me for that. I came down here early in the afternoon."
"How is he?"
"Better than an hour ago," Zuko says darkly.
Katara nods understandingly. "Thanks for being here," she says.
Zuko gives an aborted kind of shrug with his shoulders. Why wouldn't he be? Nevertheless, Katara is grateful. She doesn't want Aang to be alone like this, not even for a moment. Who knows when something might happen. He does look worse today. When she presses her hand into his limp one, it's hot. There's a sheen of sweat on his brow and worry lining his features. She wants to smooth it away, but refrains, not wanting to get in Zuko's way.
"How was your meeting?" Zuko asks. "I heard there was a gathering of healers. I figured that's where you went?" As he talks, he removes a piece of cloth from Aang's forehead and dips it into the bucket next to him, squeezing it out carefully.
Katara could probably do that more effectively herself, just with her hands and the cool water, but there's something oddly relieving in watching Zuko do it instead. She doesn't notice that she hasn't replied, until Zuko looks at her expectantly, his movement paused.
"Katara?"
"Huh? Oh, I did. It was good. People are recovering quickly."
Aang stirs a little, moaning, and Katara finds his hand again. It feels even hotter than minutes ago, though that can't be possible. It's hard to keep herself from panicking. Zuko silently picks up the bucket and hands it to her over Aang's body.
She continues watching him as she cools down the water, one hand swirling over the bucket and the other clasped around it. Zuko takes the freshly cool cloth in his hand and folds it in half, pressing it back onto Aang's forehead, his other hand resting near Aang's collarbone. It's oddly sweet.
Zuko must notice her watching, because he glances up to meet her eyes, his expression caught a little off guard. "This is what uncle does," he says bluntly.
Katara laughs. "Of course," she says. It earns her a genuine smile back. She finds her mood lifted, if only just for a moment.
She notices that the rain has stopped pouring. Only a soft pitter-patter on the tin roof and the leaves of the foliage that surround the guesthouse can be heard. Almost instantaneously, the light coming through the window changes, a warm orange glow from the afternoon sun, its rays as low as the buildings. It washes through the room, making Katara squint and Zuko raise his hand to shield his forehead.
"Do you think it's a sign?" Katara says, hesitant. "That he might wake up soon?" Her voice wobbles on the end of the sentence unexpectedly.
Zuko looks at her with so much unguarded sympathy, and reaches over to put his hand over hers. She thinks of her injury from a couple of weeks ago. And how she wants to do that again - to put her hands between his, and hold on to him, to get some kind of solace from him. And then she might feel okay, and maybe Aang would be okay, and everything will go back to normal -
She presses her lips together, and squeezes Zuko's hand with hers. It makes her heart hurt.
Has she always been transgressing? Is it horrible how much comfort she wants from him?
Finally, she lets go, blinking. She tries a weak smile, "I should go get something to eat from the cafeteria. It was a long journey back. Do you want me to get you something?"
"I'd like some tea," Zuko says, his voice kind and tempered in a way that must take him real effort.
"Tea?" Katara raises her eyebrows. She can't even count how many times over the years Zuko has professed his disgust for the drink. Though she concedes that most of that was probably a result of overexposure from being around Iroh.
"I like the sweet milky one here," Zuko says, with his hands up in defence, "it actually doesn't taste like... leaf water." He frowns at his own lame description.
"Sure," she says with a smirk, refraining from rolling her eyes. She returns the bucket to his side of the mat before she leaves.
The sky outside is almost as clear as Daoshu's. The sun is even lower in the sky, casting the hillside in pink. The scene inspires some hope, a moment of calm at the end of the day. Inside the hospital cafeteria, Katara makes the decision to get seaweed noodles. She usually avoids them in favour of the region's usual rice and fish, since they're no more than a poor imitation of the Southern Water Tribe's best comfort dish, but today she can't resist.
She misses home. If Aang doesn't improve in the next couple of days, she's going to write to Sokka and see if he can spare a few days on emergency matters. There really is nothing like the unchanging support of family, especially when she can't exactly go to her best friend here to talk about things, with the way things are.
Not that Zuko isn't being amazing right now. There's something that gives her peace about knowing that there's someone here with Aang that loves him as much as she does. Dealing with people interested in the Avatar is its own kind of labour, as much as she appreciates their help and interest. The most confusing thing for her right now is trying to separate how her heart swells from Zuko's sympathy to how it does for - well, for other reasons.
Still, having Zuko here makes a real difference, and she tries to focus on that.
A few of her fellow workers wave to her and she waves back. With her noodles and tea for herself and Zuko, Katara makes her way back to the guesthouse.
She doesn't get to take one step back into the room when her eyes fall on Aang through the doorway. She can't see his face from where she is, but the way his body stretches and his head twists against the pillow is unmistakable. He's awake.
When she looks up again, though, Zuko's expression makes her stop short.
The utter relief lighting up his face, his beautiful features.
"Zuko?" Aang says, his voice scratchy and quiet.
"Hey," Zuko says breathlessly, and Katara is still fixed on his face, how all the discipline in it evaporates instantly, replaced with a childlike concern.
"Zuko-" Aang says with more certainty, and Katara almost trips over her skirt trying to put her tray down on the nearest table in the hallway before going inside.
"It's me, Aang," Zuko is saying gently.
"Where am I? Are we in Bakai?" He tries to sit up. Zuko puts a hand at his back, and another on his torso to help him. Aang's bare skin glistens under it, sickly, but the touch stays, flat and firm and gentle.
Aang scrunches up his brows and scowls at the sunlight coming through the window.
"We are," Zuko says. Neither of them appear to have noticed her.
When she steps through, she can see that Aang's face twists into a feeble smile.
"Have you been waiting at my bedside all this time, Fire Lord?" he says weakly.
Zuko doesn't even bother responding to that comment. His hands find Aang's and he squeezes them before he puts his arms around his shoulders. Aang returns the gesture.
Maybe it's the fact that she's been on the precipice of it all week, but the simple way Zuko's hand carefully holds the back of Aang's head makes Katara want to cry. When he pulls back, his face is awash with relief that mirrors so perfectly how Katara feels inside. He looks up from Aang's shoulder, noticing her in the doorway.
She manages one measly step forward before bursting into tears.
"Katara," Aang says, turning his head fast and wincing at the very same movement.
She rushes for him. The glimpse of Zuko's face she gets before her arms are around Aang's shoulders is alarmed, even embarrassed.
"How long have I been gone?"
"Four days," Katara says, kneeling in front of him, wiping at her eyes. "I thought you might not - I even sent for someone North -"
Aang hugs her tightly. When they pull away from each other, Katara asks, "How do you feel? Do you think you can eat or drink?"
Aang looks down at himself, as if he's noticing his body for the first time. "I feel fine. Thirsty, though." He wipes off the sweat on his neck with a shiver, "and cold."
"I'll get you something," Katara says. After a long look at his face, she decides, "some herbs, too - and here, we'll go to my bed in the next room, it's much warmer there."
"I'll go," Zuko says quickly.
Katara looks up at him, but it's Aang who speaks before she dares to put her thoughts together. "Wait, Zuko," he says. "Will you stay? I have to tell you both what I saw in the Spirit World."
Zuko looks uncertainly between the two of them. Katara isn't stupid. She can tell why he's hesitant, and she's sure of it. Zuko's tender expression, just moments ago, hasn't left her mind. She looks at Aang for help, but Zuko is quicker than the both of them.
"You need rest," he says. "Really. I'll find you tomorrow, Aang. I'm glad you're safe." With a squeeze of Aang's shoulder and a clumsy hand of greeting on Katara's back, he's out of the door in a flash.