Hi, everyone! This "Disaster" story is looking like it's going to consist of six parts. I'm really happy with it, and you guys seem to be, too. Thanks for the idea, Kataang9! (Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, don't own it. Bite me, Nickelodeon.)


"Do you really think that Aang is gonna be okay, Zuko?" Presently, a grouch and buffoon were on their way to Mt. Wu Xing, in the wastes of the northern Fire Nation, to—

WAIT A MINUTE. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CHAPTERS 42-44, YOU ARE HEREBY PROHIBITED FROM CONTINUING TO READ THIS CHAPTER. GO DIRECTLY TO CHAPTER 42. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200.

—save Aang from a terrible disease that threatened to kill him in eight days. Aang would do it himself, but he currently had seven broken ribs and was in no condition to travel.

"What are you talking about, Sokka?" asked the grouch, looking up to face the buffoon. "He will be. Have we ever let him down before?"

The buffoon glared at the grouch. "Ahem…you tried to capture him and you chased us for six months!"

The grouch rolled his eyes. "Have you ever let him down?"

"Actually, I did banish him from the Southern Water Tribe once." The buffoon looked at his feet. "He didn't listen to me, of course, but he saved the whole village from—" He paused.

The grouch sighed. "Just say it."

"—you," the buffoon said.

The grouch growled. "He'll be fine, okay?"

"Oh, yeah," the buffoon retorted sarcastically. "All we have to do is climb the world's tallest volcano, extract the nectar out of a flower that we didn't even know existed, climb back down, and get it back to Ba Sing Se before he dies in seven and a half days! Piece of cake!" He kicked a wall in anger.

The grouch shook his head exasperatedly. "And you think I'm the grouch here…"


Back at home, Aang was still engulfed in his horrible nightmare.

Now, saw himself inside the closed coffin, completely lifeless. At the same time, he could see the coffin from the outside, being lowered into the ground. Again he heard Katara's sobbing, and it broke his heart. She clung to Sokka as they, along with every friend Aang had made over the course of his travels during the war, watched the burial of the all-too-young Avatar Aang.

Then, Iroh's voice sounded. "Here lies Avatar Aang…born in 88 BSC, died in 101 ASC…hero of the Hundred Years' War, last of the Air Nomads, the greatest Avatar the world has ever seen. Rest in peace, young Avatar."

"Ahh!" Aang's eyes shot open. He tried to sit up, but his injuries prohibited him from doing so.

Katara had been watching him, and had a cup of tea on his nightstand for when he woke up. She also had one in her hands, which was nearly empty. "Hey…" she said quietly. "It's okay, you were just having a nightmare."

Aang shivered. "Yeah, a really awful one, too…" he replied. She handed him his teacup. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked him gently, taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his. He sipped the tea and took a deep breath. "Well…all I saw at first was red, and I felt a dull pain. Then I started puking, and all I could see was purple. The pain got worse, and I saw a bright light. And then just black. It was scary, but that's not even the worst part. I saw you crying…and then I saw myself. Dead, in a coffin, being buried, and then there was the service, and you were crying again…and all I wanted to do was shout out that I was still alive, but I—I couldn't." He wasn't crying, but Aang's breaths were shallow and shaky, as if he had been, or were about to. He was squeezing her hand tightly in fear, and the look in his eyes made Katara's heart ache.

"Aang…there's something important I should tell you," Katara said with a shaky sigh, putting her free hand over their intertwined ones.


Night had fallen somewhere over the western Earth Kingdom. Zuko was exhausted, so Sokka took a turn steering the airship.

"What if…what if we don't make it?" Sokka asked fearfully. "What if we fail?"

"We won't," Zuko promised. But Sokka did have a point. What if they didn't make it? What would happen if Aang were to…die?

Sokka was dissatisfied with that answer. "But what if we do?"

Zuko sighed. "I…don't really know. But we can't think like that. It isn't going to help anyone." And for the first time since the disappearance of his mother, the Firelord was truly scared.

"Y'know, as worried as I am for Aang…I'm just as worried about Katara," Sokka said. "He's her whole world. If he's gone, I don't know how she's going to cope. She was devastated when Mom died…we both were. But she took it so much worse than I did. If we lose Aang, too…" He trailed off, shaking his head.


Aang was in utter shock, hot tears flowing down his face. "I'm…I'm going to die?"

Katara stroked his cheek. "No…" she said softly. "Sokka and Zuko aren't going to let that happen to you. And neither am I." But the tears in her own eyes were telling a different story.

"I want to believe you," Aang said quietly, for fear of his voice failing him. "But how are Sokka and Zuko going to make it back in time? H-how do they even know what the flower even looks like, or how to get the nectar? A-and who says they'll even come back at all…let alone in a week?"

Katara took in a shaky breath, still holding back tears. "D-don't talk like that," she told him. "They'll come back…"

He shook his head. "You don't know that!" he said sharply, tears continuing to flow from his eyes. "They may not even come back at all!"

"I-I—" But Katara had no reply. She stared at him, very nearly crying. Although he was injured and couldn't get out of bed, she suddenly felt afraid of him.

Aang sighed shakily. "I'm sorry…I just—"

"N-no, you're right," she said, cutting off his apology. "Maybe they won't come back." She paused for a few seconds, finally allowing her tears to trickle down her cheeks. "But I believe they will…"