Sorry I haven't been updating, I have been SO BUSY. Yeah, too many people and too many relatives to see. So here is something. Ain't very good, but yeah. I'm watching my three year old cousin while I do this. And he is very...er...he's a handful to watch. So sorry if this sucks.

Katara had always been at sewing.

And she knew that.

It mostly took good practice and lots of experience. Which she had. Whether it was sewing clothes for Sokka almost everyday, or sewing clothes for the little ones on the tribe with the help of the older woman. Sh had even made her fair share of blankets in the past, with her Gran-Gran teaching her everything she needed.

Of course, being the only one in Avatar's group that could sew also gave her a lot of practice.

It was either more of Sokka's clothes, or putting Aang's only clothes back together again, or occasionally Toph would need a good mending also. Iroh held the basics of sewing, but nothing compared to Katara. She would just shoo him away and tell the old man to rest and let her handle it.

And then there was Zuko.

It took three weeks of talking and persuasion, a threat, and finally a water whip to the head to make him pass over his damaged clothes. He never asked her, she found that his clothes were full of holes and worn out edges that needed to be fixed weeks ago. But asking for help was never one of Zuko's strong qualities.

In fact, he didn't even possess that quality. Or that's was just her opinion.

As the fire crackled and the group sat in a circle around it, laughing and exchanging happy stories of their pasts with the others, she kept to herself and watched one person only.

Iroh's storytelling voice, Sokka and Aang's laughter, and even Toph's side comments had all been toned out.

Katara watched as Zuko sat alone and to himself, his eyes telling his entire life. A heavy past burdened his back, and she only knew the details that Iroh had told her. Those details alone were enough to make her worry. About him. His narrowed eyes and permanent frown made her want to go over to him and know everything. Everything.

One day she was going to make him part of the group. To make him smile. To make him feel at home.

But that would not be an easy task.

Walking over to the alone exiled prince, Katara sat next to him, she was ready. Even if the others gave her a weird look, or he did the same as them, or even if he would walk away when she began to talk to their newest member, she was willing to not give up.

Staring into golden eyes that held a broken past, both scars on him and inside, she was willing to dig deep into his soul to find the cure to make him whole again. She was going to search for all the shattered pieces and all the torn edges in order to fill the holes that bear his life.

She had no idea that this would be her biggest and most difficult job of sewing ever.

To mend his heart back together again.