Disclaimer: I do NOT own ANY part of ATLA in any way, shape, or form. I own NOTHING!

Chapter 11:

ZUKO

All firebenders wrestle with madness. Our element is different from the others. We are mad by design. We flirt with madness daily, caressing insanity like an old lover each time we will fire to burst from our fists. It is our innate nature to consume. Some of us just want to consume more than others. We want more, and on some level, we are always aware of that nagging want that scraps away at the back of our skulls.

I'm no exception. Agni's burning blood runs thick in my veins. This want, this urge to consume goes beyond conquest and even the four nations. It can be something simple. And I've become acutely aware of the fact that my sights have officially set on Katara.

I want to destroy her, burn through her until there is nothing but ash. That's the only solution. That is the only way to get rid of this infatuation that infects me.

I should have stopped this madness when I obtained her forgiveness. I should have stopped right then and there, but I didn't. The fire in me burned for more. It wanted to consume more. That's the thing with fire: once it starts, it is all but impossible to stop.

I should have stopped this madness before it even started but when did it start? Ba Sing Se?

Who am I kidding? There was no stopping this. This is bigger than both of us.

And it is only getting worse.

A part of me - the darker, more carnal part of me - thinks that if I just fuck her, that will help. I think that it will at least alleviate some of my pain, that it will purge her from my system.

But I can't just fuck her because I care about her. A lot. And because I'm stuck with her until she's reunited with Sokka. Sex would make things even more complicated.

Things are complicated enough as it is.

I have to remind myself of this continually. But it is so hard to remember when she kisses me, when her scent surrounds me, when her arms go around my neck and her fingers tug at my hair.

I stay sane by counting the days, busying myself in the study, practicing my bending (all my frustration is an excellent motivator), occasionally drowning myself in Fire Whiskey, and of course, taking care of the baby.

Winter melts away quickly, marked only by Korri's rapid milestones.

She's grown a lot since we've been here. She can sit up. She knows her name. She laughs and drools more than she did a few weeks ago. She's teething, so she has random bursts of crankiness. But overall, she isn't difficult. I enjoy her more than I should, so I often remind myself of our situation and the fact that I don't need to get too close to her.

The same could be said for Katara, but I'm too selfish to acknowledge that yet.

It is almost warm today. The first hint of warmth we'd experienced since we got here. I see it as the first inkling of spring, a sign get moving again. Katara, however, sees it as an opportunity to drag us down to the beach.

Which she does.

It's still too cold for me, even after all the time I spent at the South Pole. But I go anyway, lying on the sand, trying to absorb as much heat from the sun as possible.

Katara and the baby stay near the water's edge, laughing and splashing around. It resembles a waterbending lesson. Katara does all kinds of advanced techniques for Korri in the form of play, which amuses the baby and impresses me as I watch from the shore.

I pull them away with the promise of sandcastles. I hope this will prevent Katara from forcing me into her element.

It doesn't.

Katara grabs my wrist and tugs. "Come on! Swim with me."

I make a face at the water. "It's cold, Katara."

"And you're a firebender." She tugs harder, pulling me out of the sand.

I go with her begrudgingly, and as soon as the first wave touches my feet, she tries to drown me. Something she and the baby find terribly funny.

I turn what I can into steam, but there is so much of it. All I can do to defend myself is physically grab Katara, haul her over my shoulder, and try to carry her back to shore, but she wraps water tentacles around my ankles, making this almost impossible. Momo has perched himself on my head, making the task even more difficult.

"Stop it!" I howl, using my free hand to firebend the water's grip on me.

Katara shakes with laughter against me and I slowly realize that I am snickering too. Seconds later, I trip and fall into the sand, taking her down with me.

From the safety of the shore, the baby cheers and giggles between her gurgles, clapping her chubby hands together with glee.

Katara rolls around on the sand. We've both become sandbenders as we fight for dominance. We put it in each other's faces and hair before I am finally able to pin her down. I grab her wrists and force them over her head.

"Truce!" I cry before she remembers to waterbend.

She laughs breathlessly underneath me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And even though she is sandy and wet, it's one of the most endearing things I've ever seen.

"Truce," she breathes in agreement as her eyes meet mine.

Gently, I flatten my hand against her sternum, as if that will calm her breathing. She grows deathly still. I feel her heart pounding against the palm of my hand. The static gathers between us, and it borders on painful.

The baby fussing nearby brings us back to our senses. Blushing and smiling nervously, Katara rolls out from under me and goes to the baby.

Katara is probably relieved. She has a thing about touching me in the light of day. She keeps our more intimate moments in the dark.

It's better that way. That part of our lives should stay in the dark. It should stay buried. Hidden. Separate from the other life we lead. Besides, it's not like it can be any other way.

We haven't talked about our relationship or the lack thereof. We don't have to. We know what it can be. We know what it can't be. But we have found enjoyment between those extremes, and that is enough. For now.

I go back to my sandcastle, and the baby whines for me instead of Katara. As I walk past her, those plump, little arms rise for me. She babbles what I assume is her version of my name and grips at the air between us as if to lure me in.

Sighing, I lift her and take her to my unfinished sandcastle with me.

Luckily for me, the baby is just as content playing around in the sand as she was splashing in the water.

It's moments like these where Korri feels less like a duty or obligation and more and more like something of our own. Every now and then it hits me - truly hits me - that we are raising her. We've stolen milestones with her that she should be having with her mother.

The baby is yet another tie between Katara and me, strengthening that perilous bond between us. On the good days, I am almost happy here with them. In some ways, I've felt more at home with Katara than I ever felt back in my real home.

Especially the one without Mother...

Pushing those particular thoughts away, I make some tiny castles for the baby (and Momo too), which she quickly destroys with her tiny hands, laughing at the exasperation on my face each time. She enjoys my reaction to the destruction more than the destruction itself.

Katara says this is a sign that she's an earthbender, but I don't respond. The closer I get to Korri, the more I don't want that burden on her shoulders. For her sake, I hope she isn't the Avatar. I'd rather the Avatar be some nameless kid from the North Pole. But I let Katara have this hope. I've learned that she needs to feel a connection to Aang. It gives her peace. If she didn't have this hope to cling to, I doubt she would be doing as well as she is.

At nap time, I suggest we go to the fields up by the house. It is still nice out, and the fresh air is much needed after we've spent so much time cooped up in that house together.

Worn out from all the water and sand, the baby falls asleep as soon as she is placed on the blankets we brought for our little outing. Katara and I sunbathe next to her, hidden in the tall grass.

Katara curls up next to me, resting her head on my chest as she stares out at the calm waves below us.

Being here reminds me of Mother. She used to come out here with me and tell me stories. Sometimes she would watch as I ran around through the foliage, pretending to firebend, defeating imaginary enemies. She would even pretend to be a monster for me.

"You know, my mother and I used to-" I tense, catching myself and what I've just said. I roll out from under Katara and bring my legs to my chest.

"Zuko…?" Katara is concerned but mostly hurt.

"Nothing. Forget it," I grumble curtly, folding my arms over my knees and burying my face between them.

"You never talk about her. The only time you ever said anything about her was in the catacombs…"

That is my cue to speak, but I don't. It's strange. I almost want to talk about her, but at the same time, it still feels too raw. It's been years, but that wound still feels fresh. Maybe because it is one of the deepest wounds I have. And Katara has already gotten too far into me as it is. If I tell her about Mother, I'll be even closer to her.

And I can't afford that.

"I found a picture of her the other day." Katara returns to my side. "She looks like Azula, but I saw kindness in her eyes. It's the kindness I see in your eyes too."

My ears and neck grow hot.

She inches even closer to me, silently demanding eye contact. "What happened to her? Your mother?"

I almost ignore the question. Then I remember how Katara told me about what happened to her mother. I remember how she didn't hold back and went into a painful amount of detail.

I owe her.

I suck in a deep long breath, and I tell her everything. I go all the way back to the days leading up to Azulon's death and her leaving all the way up to the day of the eclipse when my father told me the truth. I don't stop until I explain that - on top of everything else - she was also Avatar Roku's granddaughter.

"But she's alive? That means you could still find her, Zuko!" She squeezes my hand. There is hope in her voice.

I turn away from her and stare down at the path leading down to the beach. "I kinda have a few other things I have to sort out first."

"But there's still hope. It's still a possibility for you. And we'll help you."

"Yeah, well, the person who could help the most also happens to be the man who wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire."

Katara frowns and lets go of my hand. "Don't be like that, Zuko. There are other ways. Don't let that take this away from you. Someday, you'll have the chance to look for your mother, and we will be there with you when that day comes."

I nod slowly even though I don't believe this. Mother is another thing that feels completely lost to me now. She might have been within reach before. If we'd won. But not now. Not anymore.

"We should think about leaving soon." I change the subject. I can't tell talk about this anymore.

Katara visibly deflates. I feel bad for ruining such a good day, but I feel spring coming. I feel it in the sun, in my blood. Everything is warming. But even if it wasn't, I'm not sure how much longer we can keep living like this. We're too separated from reality here, which is another kind of danger we haven't considered.

"It'll be spring soon. Everyone will be returning to their summer homes. And it'll take us a while to get back to the Earth Kingdom, even longer to get into the swamp," I continue. "And the bigger the baby gets, the harder she'll be to travel with."

"I know," she agrees but she doesn't sound happy about it.

I don't relish the idea of trudging our way through the Earth Kingdom again either, but we are too cozy here. We can't keep playing house like this. She is burrowing further and further inside of me, and she doesn't even realize it.

We spend the next few days planning the trip and destroying any and all evidence around the house that we were ever here.

I doubt anyone would come sniffing around, but we can't be too careful.

Our plan to get to the Earth Kingdom isn't all that different from our plan to get here. With limited resources and connections, we will be hopping onto a cargo ship at the harbor.

Katara and I take turns spending several nights near the docks, listening to crew members, shop owners, villagers, and anyone else in the general vicinity of the harbor to learn when the cargo ships run and where they'll be going.

Our best bet is a supply run to Omashu (or New Ozai). From there, we will be on our own. If we are lucky, we can get some ostrich-horses. I'm prepared to steal them should the opportunity present itself. But I'll worry about that more later when the time comes.

Slipping underneath the newest version of the Blue Spirit's mask has been easy. Too easy if I think about it. I've gotten back into the habit of stealing. Or at the very least breaking and entering.

My father isn't the only man of exceptionally high status with a summer home out here. So I've taken it upon myself to search them for important documents and any other information that might be useful.

Unfortunately, most of what I find is outdated and worthless. It is all from last summer. None of these influential families have returned since the comet, and I doubt they'll be back until the coming summer. Spring at the earliest.

But I still search these homes. Every now and then I find something that might be useful, but nothing about my father's current plans. Nothing about the state of the Earth Kingdom. Nothing I hope for.

Their documents and maps are worthless, but their gold pieces and antiques aren't. And since we are about to leave, I've stopped holding back. Everything is up for grabs. We'll be in the swamp long before they even realize anything has been stolen.

I sneak out again to get one final - and rather impressive if I say so myself - haul from a nearby admiral's home.

Despite going out with Katara's (somewhat) permission, she still isn't too happy when I return.

I pull the mask off and toss the heavy load onto the rich wood of the dining room floor. "We agreed that this would help us get through the Earth Kingdom, which means the baby stands a better chance. Remember?"

Katara kneels next to the satchel with me and we sort through everything inside. Coins, gold bars, and jewels in one pile and provisions in the other. Momo picks up a copper piece and chews it a moment before spitting it out and hurling it back onto the floor.

"You still didn't have to get so much," she huffs.

"Better safe than sorry. Anything could happen between here and the swamp. Besides, Admiral Yyn is a notorious piece of shit."

That seems to pacify her, but we continue to pack in silence. Both of us are antsy about going back out into the world again. We've been so cut off from the outside world here that we have no way of knowing what to expect or how dangerous it could be for us.

It is hard to get news on the goings on in the Earth Kingdom from an island in the Fire Nation. The people here have no reason to be concerned with that. We won the war. Who cares how bad it is over there?

Admiral Yyn had an impressive stash of booze, and since I've gotten into the habit of occasionally drinking Father's fire whisky around the house, I helped myself to a nice bottle of rice wine.

I pop the bottle, take a swig, and pass it to Katara.

She wrinkles her nose at the offering. "What's that?"

"Rice wine courtesy of Admiral Yyn." I tilt my head. "Have you ever had any?"

"Sokka dared me to drink rum once." She takes the bottle and she and Momo suspiciously smell the contents. "It was awful."

I almost laugh. "Just try it. If you don't like it, you never have to touch it again."

She lifts the bottle to her lips, takes a very small sip, and makes a very amusing face before saying something like: "Blaech."

"Well?"

She shakes her head as if to shake the taste out of her mouth. "It's not…bad."

I take the bottle back and get another gulp. "You don't really drink it for the taste."

We pass the bottle back and forth as we continue to pack and sort our supplies. Katara continues to shudder with each sip but they become less aggressive each time, which kinda makes me sad. It was funny watching her tremble every time it went down her throat.

It doesn't take her long to get a little buzzed, and honestly, it is something I've wanted to see for a long time. I've always wondered what sweet, motherly, responsible Katara would be like drunk.

Turns out, she's playful, talkative, and loose when tipsy.

I'm careful to not let her drink too much. I monitor my intake as well. We are still taking care of a baby, after all. But this is easier said than done. By the time we finish adding my latest haul to our stockpile, we are more sloshed than I realized.

I walk a very giggly Katara to the main sitting room, light a fire in the giant fireplace, and collapse onto the red rug nearby.

Katara steps on Momo's tail, causing the lemur to wail, hiss, and fly off.

"Oh! Sorry, Momo!" she apologizes but laughs all the way down to the floor.

Katara crawls dangerously close to me and plays with my hair, running her fingers through it and pushing it away from my face.

"I like your hair long like this," she says, gazing down at me, her fingertips tracing my hairline. "But don't let it get too long. You'll look too much like Ozai."

"I won't let it get that long until I get my throne back. Deal?" Unthinking, I prop myself up on my elbows and lean back, making it easier for her to do as she pleases.

Giggling, she pulls my hair into a lopsided wolf tail. "Deal."

I shake my head, my chin-length hair tumbling back down. "Okay, enough."

She laughs again. "Oh, c'mon! You look great with a wolf tail!"

"Since you're laughing at me, I doubt that."

Katara covers her mouth and tries to stifle the last of her giggles. "Okay, okay. I'm done laughing now."

Grinning, I lie back and throw an arm over my eyes. "Doesn't sound like it."

I feel her straddle me and lean down close to my face. "Okay, I'm done for real this time. I'm sorry."

The heat of her body is against me. She unknowingly shifts along my lap in a way that stirs up all kinds of indecent thoughts and feelings in me. Her hair curtains down around me. Her smell is everywhere. Her eyes are playful and lidded but there is a distinct look in them that I've come to understand.

Longing.

I had no idea blue eyes could burn like that until we started playing this particular…game together. It was fun at first, but it has begun to terrify me. And not because I'm afraid of her. I'm afraid of myself, my feelings, and what I could do to her.

In more ways than one…

"All right, no more rice wine for you. Time for bed." I try to lift her but she is laughing too hard for me to do so. We end up tumbling back to the rug. I'm snickering now too in spite of myself.

"Oh, wait! Wait!" Katara holds up her hands flamboyantly as if she's had a world-changing epiphany and then rolls around onto all fours. "Pigster back ride!"

I stand, steady myself, and turn my back to her. "Okay."

"Ready?" I feel her hands on my shoulders. "One…five…three!" she leaps onto my back and I catch the back of her knees.

Her arms wrap around my neck a bit too tightly, but we make it upstairs to the bedroom without too much incident. I only tripped a little and Katara stopped giggling by the time we reached the top of the stairs.

I toss her onto the bed, which causes her to succumb to another laughing fit.

I cover her mouth with my hand. "Shh. You want to wake the baby?"

Once she was big enough, we decided it would be best to give Korri her own room across the hall. But her door is still open and she isn't as heavy a sleeper as she once was.

Katara shakes her head, so I move my hand. But when I pull it away, my attention stays on her lips, which she notices.

Her breathing quickens. Briefly, as if she's never really seen me before, her fingertips trace over my jawline and lips.

I grab her wrist and pull her hand away. But my thumb gently plays at the tender skin under her wrist.

"Katara…" I warn. We aren't nearly sober enough for this.

"…Please…" she begs. She actually fucking begs!

That singular word smashes what remains of my tact to dust. Blood is no longer going to my brain.

I settle on top of her and kiss her. Her hands immediately go into my hair, clawing gently at the back of my head.

The rice wine has her uninhibited and fluid. Her legs wrap around me easily, naturally. She's pretty used to me being between them now. She's gotten comfortable with us like this. Too comfortable.

My hands ghost along her chest, down her sides, over her ribs, and eventually up her legs.

Katara sighs and wriggles impatiently against me, searching for more friction and silently begging for more.

And I give it, carefully positioning myself between her legs and gripping the bedding over her head for leverage.

I feel her shudder, but it isn't like the shuddering she did while drinking the rice wine. This one is deeper. It is a shudder that goes down to the core of a person. I know because I do the same when she unknowingly grinds her hips against mine.

All thought leaves me at that moment. There is nothing but pure instinct as my hand dives between her legs.

I feel her flinch, tensing against me.

And just like that, I'm stone-cold sober again. I crash back down to earth and remember myself. I remember that Katara is younger than me and…inexperienced. Judging by the culture I picked up on in the tribes, she will want to stay that way for someone who isn't me.

She isn't mine.

Breathing hard, I pull away and roughly rake a hand through my hair.

"We should get some sleep," I whisper.

Katara nods and I roll off her.

Slowly sitting up, her face flushed, she says: "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be." I go to the other side of the room and remove my cowl. "...It's my fault... I shouldn't have... The rice wine... And..." I fumble all over myself and run a hand down my face.

"...Zuko..."

I turn. She's on her knees near the foot of the bed. The look in her eyes cuts me. It cuts me deep. It is earnest and beseeching.

"I started it. I...wanted you to... I just..." Katara rubs nervously at her arms.

I walk back to the bed and place my hands on the mattress on each side of her. "I would never want to do anything that you didn't want or weren't ready for. You don't have to explain yourself to me, okay?"

Eyes and head low, Katara nods.

I press my forehead to hers, and she leans into me, our noses brushing.

This little dance we do is downright painful at this point. It's enough to make me rip my own skin off. Sometimes I think taking off my own flesh strip by strip would be less painful, less torturous.

But it doesn't matter. I care too much about her to care about anything else: even my own selfish, physical wants or needs (no matter how agonizing...). I'll never stop begging for whatever scraps of attention I can get from her. Anything is enough but also not at the same time.

I was wrong. Even if I did somehow manage to consume her, destroy her and burn her to ash, nothing would change. These feelings, this infatuation - whatever the fuck you want to call it - wouldn't leave. There's no cure for this.

One waterbender is going to be the death of me.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! And for being here despite the significant gap between updates. You are appreciated, and I will make it up to you by doing better going forward!