I am Zutara trash. But I'm bigger trash for baby-fics. I admit it. T_T

I haven't even seen Avatar until yesterday; I've binged season 1 in basically one day, and I'm on to season 2. I have no life, that's why. LOL.

I've never written this kind of fic before, so please be gentle with me. It'll be a decent-length story (I plan it to have around fifty short chapters. But we'll see.), so sit back and enjoy the ride.

Night Changes

Chapter 1: Just the Flu

"You look like hell, sis." Sokka had about twenty seconds to retract that statement or there would be serious hell to pay.

"Gee, thanks, Sokka."

Sokka merely gave Katara an eyeroll, not exactly intimidated by his younger sister's annoyed glare. But he knew better than to make fun of her too much, considering that she was sick with the flu. That was the reason he came over; she had been sick for over a week now, and Sokka had to be the one to convince her to go see a doctor. Well, Zuko would have, except that he was busy working with his uncle; leaving his girlfriend to be at the mercy of her brother. If Sokka had to be the one to drag Katara kicking and screaming, so be it. He was used to her antics.

"Please tell me why you're here again," Katara sighed heavily, trying to sit up on the living room futon. It took a few attempts, but she was glad that she finally did it without anyone's help.

"You know why," Sokka snorted, taking a seat across from his sister. "To check up on you. Here – I got you something." A few packages of chicken noodle soup, some Kleenex boxes, and even one of those romance books that he picked up (Katara was always raving on and on about an Ali Hazelwood, who was apparently her favourite author). He figured that Katara would appreciate his kind gestures – instead of being constantly suspicious of them.

Not that Sokka really blamed her; their dynamic was one of constant teasing. But didn't all siblings engage in that kind of thing?

"Ooh, Ali Hazelwood," Katara couldn't help but smile, as she eyed the book that Sokka pulled out from his plastic bag. He tossed it on the coffee table closest to Katara.

"I figured you need something to read while you're quarantined."

"You mean while I'm not busy puking my guts out in the bathroom?"

"Hey, I'm just here to see if you're doing any better."

If Sokka wanted to be honest, she didn't look much better than the last time he saw her; Katara looked tired AF (not that he would voice that out loud), considering that there were dark circles underneath her eyes.

Katara's wavy dark brown hair – which she usually put up in her signature braid – cascaded down around her shoulders, in a dishevelled manner. Sokka could tell that she hadn't showered in a few days.

And she had the nerve to call Sokka gross.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be ok."

Katara rarely ever got sick, but when she did, she was pretty adamant on reminding everyone around her that she was a tough cookie.

"Tell that to Zuko," Sokka scoffed.

Zuko – Katara's boyfriend of two and a half years – AKA the most overprotective man on the planet. In his own way. Zuko wasn't really the type to talk about his feelings (although he came a long way throughout their relationship), but his actions always spoke louder than words. It was one of the things that Katara loved about him.

So naturally he would send Sokka over to their apartment; Sokka never really would have come over via free will.

"I would, but he's working right now."

"I know. His uncle called him in at the last minute." Katara wasn't really disappointed; she didn't want Zuko to have to choose between making money and staying with his girlfriend when she was sick. They were busy enough as it was – having to juggle university classes and part-time jobs. But things should start to settle once Katara graduated this semester. Assuming she would pass all her classes.

Katara wanted to be a nurse – ever since she was a kid – and she was getting closer to making her dream a reality. After her graduation she had an internship placement with the local hospital.

Zuko, on the other hand, was planning on taking over his uncle's tea shop; even though he was the son of a diplomat, he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps. Katara never really understood why.

"Aww, someone missing their boyfriend?"

"No," Katara hissed, before ripping open the Kleenex box. She took a Kleenex to blow her nose with, just in time too – as she almost got snot on her BTS t-shirt.

"Well, maybe it's a good thing. I don't think he'd be up to seeing you right now," Sokka snickered.

"That's such a nice thing to say to your sister," Katara remarked sarcastically. It was her turn to roll her blue eyes.

"I like to think of myself as a nice guy."

"Right."

"So are you gonna go see a doctor?"

"I don't need to see anyone. I'm fine." She was a nurse in training, after all; Katara knew that she could take care of herself. But, she supposed if things didn't improve in a few days, she would go to a walk-in clinic.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"You can just mind your own business." Katara was about to say something else, but she paled once she felt bile rising up; it wouldn't be the first time she'd puke, and she immediately grabbed the medium garbage can that was beside her futon.

Katara was glad she had quick reflexes; not even two seconds after, she released the contents of her stomach into the garbage can. This time, she only seemed to puke up her water. A vast improvement over her supper from last night. But still, Katara hated how her throat burned afterwards.

She was so done with this flu bug.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll mind my own business," Sokka sighed, deciding that he would bestow upon his sister another act of kindness, by rubbing her back.

"Thanks, Sokka."

"Don't mention it. Like, ever."