A/N: I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Aang.It belongs to Nickelodeon, Mike and Bryan. Thank you, Nickelodeon, Mike and Bryan!
Switching Sides
Chapter Four: New Memories
"Please come downstairs, Katara."
"No."
"But Ailin's made roast duck, with fruit tart for pudding –"
"I don't know what that is."
"Just come down and eat it, okay?'
"No."
"But Katara –"
"No."
"Any luck?" asked Ailin on the second day they had been staying with her.
"No," Sokka sighed. A pause. "I'm worried," he admitted, not meeting the old woman's gaze.
"She won't starve herself. You ignore kids, they come to you anyway. They survive on affection. You'll see."
Sokka began to pile his plate with meat, succulent and spicy. Despite how much he hated the Fire Nation, there was no denying that their food was good. "But she doesn't want my affection…" His sentence fizzled out like a candle flame in a rainstorm, but as he ate – and ate and ate – his thoughts kept returning to Katara.
Ever since they had arrived, she hadn't been herself. The Katara he knew would never curl up on her bed for hours at a time, complaining that she felt sick and he wasn't to disturb her. The Katara he knew would never refuse to let Ailin change her bandage, even though it was starting to become unhygienic. The Katara he knew was bright, and happy, and talkative – and nothing like the ghost of a girl who was now the only family he had left.
No, Sokka thought forcefully, helping himself to some rice, no. Dad and mum are still my family – even if they aren't here. Mum will be back at the South Pole, driven out of her mind with worry about where we've got to. Dad is off fighting. They're still alive, though, both of them, and the sooner we get home, the sooner we can put mum out of her misery.
Whenever he spoke to himself like that, it bolstered his strength and confidence like nothing else could.
The trouble was, it was getting harder and harder to believe himself.
"Ailin? I'm not hungry anymore."
"Don't worry about your sister. She'll come around."
"You don't know Katara," Sokka retorted, gulping down a final mouthful. "She can be pretty stubborn when she wants to be. Once, when dad killed and cooked a seal she had been caring for, she didn't speak to him until the moon had done a full cycle." Sokka grinned at the memory. "I didn't mind it so much. For as long as she was angry, I got to be the favourite kid."
Ailin smiled at him – tentatively, not quite sure whether he wanted her to, but it was a smile all the same. "I bet you enjoyed that."
"You bet right," Sokka agreed.
But then his grin dropped abruptly, because all that was gone now. He was in the Fire Nation, and who knew when he'd get home? Who knew when he'd next see a seal, the snow, his parents? The air was hot here, and he was sure Ailin had never even heard of snow.
Despite what Ailin had said to Sokka, when Katara did not join them for a meal on the third day, she started to worry. "Any luck?" she asked Sokka at teatime. He didn't even need to reply; the look on his face was enough.
"Don't worry," she said again.
Sokka rested his chin on a hand. "I know, I know," he said angrily. "'Don't worry, she'll come around, she can't go long without food, I know kids, blah, blah, blah.' But you're right – I don't want her to starve – and I know Katara better than you, no offence, so I can tell you she's not going to eat."
Ailin couldn't think of anything to say after that, and they ate in silence, which was a shame; because over the past few days she had started to enjoy the boy's company.
Katara did not come down on the fourth day. Sokka did, of course, looking tired and anxious. One glance at his face and Ailin knew what she needed to do. She had been thinking about it all night – now was the time to take action. "I'm going up to speak to Katara," she announced. Sokka stood up quickly, shaking his head hard.
"You can't do that! She won't like it at all."
Ailin frowned. "I don't care whether she likes it or not – she can't starve herself over a point of principal. It's stupid and I'm putting a stop to it."
"It's not a point of principal, it's just that she's scared – and alone –"
"I'm very aware of how she must be feeling." Ailin knew all too well how it felt to be lonely. "But she isn't alone; she has you, and me too, whether she likes it or not. It isn't fair for her to sit up there and worry you silly just because of her own feelings."
"She isn't usually this selfish," said Sokka quietly. "If you knew her before, you'd understand."
Ailin stood up. "But I didn't know her before. All I know is that she's being selfish now. Not to mention horribly ungrateful. I'm going to have words with that girl…"
Sokka didn't say anything. He wouldn't admit it, but it felt good to have somebody else in control. Slowly, he sat back down as Ailin left the room.
Ailin knocked on the door firmly, something she had done countless times before in a lifetime long since gone. The sound echoed through the house, but there was no reply from the other side of the door, only an ominous silence that riled Ailin more than it made her nervous. She had little time for the silliness of petulant children. "Katara? Katara, I'm coming in, dear."
There was a muffled sort of half-sentence from inside the room. Ailin walked in. The floor was strewn with pillows from Sokka's bed (typical of a sensible lad like him to not make up his covers), and the window was closed. A pair of dusty curtains was drawn across it. The lamp was burning dangerously low in the dim room and was giving off black smoke; Ailin gagged on the thick, choking air. It smelt horrible. On the bed, Katara was sitting in a nest of tangled covers.
When she saw Ailin, her expression changed from bewilderment to mistrust in a second. "Go away."
"No. You can't stay here any longer, Katara. You need to eat, and I need to change your bandage." Katara remained silent. Ailin strode over to the bed. "I know you're upset, but this can't continue."
No reply.
"Katara –"
"I'm not eating. Okay? I'm not doing it because I want attention, either, which I know you think I am!" Katara's voice was high-pitched and infuriated, threatening to shatter into sobs any second.
"Then why are you doing it?"
"Because I don't want to be here!" Katara threw herself face-down onto the mattress, ignoring the pain in her leg and burying her face in her arms. She would not cry. Whatever she did, she would not cry again in front of this woman. She deeply regretted the last time.
Anger flared up in Ailin's chest, hot and strong. "How do you think your brother feels, with you not eating? He's horribly worried about you, Katara – I know you won't eat for me, because for some reason you hate me, but you have to do it for him. You have to."
"No I don't!"
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Yes!" Katara sat up again and glared straight at Ailin, her gaze burning straight into the older woman's eyes. "Yes, I'm hungry, but I'm not going to eat! I won't."
"Don't you know what you're doing? Listen to me –"
"I don't want to listen to you, and I don't care what I'm doing! I don't care about anything, I don't –"
But Katara didn't finish her sentence, because just then Ailin's hand – almost of its own accord – came into sharp contact with her cheek. A resounding crack filled the musty stillness of the room as Katara's head snapped back and, dizzy and stupid from the blow, she reeled backwards. She curled up like some creature at the bottom of a rock pool and began to sob in earnest.
Her mother had never hit her. Never in her life had Katara imagined being hurt by somebody else – she had always been the one everyone liked. Now she was being hit by a complete stranger! It was this change, not the pain of the blow, which made her cry.
Ailin tried not to feel sorry for her, she really did. The girl deserved everything she'd got – Ailin had slapped Taj for smaller things than this – but the sight of Katara lying on the bed, battered and tearful, played a strange tune on her heartstrings. "It's alright," she heard herself saying. "Shush now."
After the stinging pain in her cheek had dissipated, which it did soon enough, Katara realized she wasn't angry. All her fury had been drained away. Now there was just a deep, steady ache inside her that wouldn't go away.
She felt calmer, strangely. Her thoughts came slower than they had before – they were more manageable now, not just a jumble of words and pictures.
The first thing she thought was: She's being kind to me. Why? And then, I needed that slap. Somehow, it had brought her back to reality. Yes, she was here, but she was also alive – and one day, she would go home.
"A – Ailin?" Katara pulled away from the older woman. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for worrying Sokka like I did – it's just – but I shouldn't make excuses." She twisted her hands in her lap. "And I'm sorry for… for worrying you, too. And I am hungry."
"I'm sorry too. Well. A bit. So you'll eat?" Ailin tried a kind smile out for size. Katara gazed back at her solemnly for a second before responding with a returned smile that, in reality, was more like a grimace.
"I think I have to."
Praise the spirits."Come with me."
Katara stood up, her right leg wobbling beneath her. To her dismay, she found she could barely support herself – her leg was bad enough (and it hurt even more now she was standing up, and her muscles were stiff and achy all over), but combined with a terrible, gut-twisting hunger it was a wonder she could move at all. Ailin took her arm and led her gently out of the door.
"Sokka?"
"Katara!" Sokka stood up in a second, knocking his bowl over so that rice spilled onto the shining wooden tabletop.
He took his sister off Ailin and sat her in his place. "You've decided to eat!" Without waiting for a reply, he got Katara a bowl and started piling it with food. "Fire flakes? They're good, but maybe too spicy. This meat is delicious, I don't know what it is, but it's tasty –"
"Sokka. I'll choose for myself, thanks." Her brother retreated.
Katara gazed at the table before her, laden with food, and in that moment she realised just how bad real hunger was.
Greedily she stuffed it down her, not bothering to taste it, filling herself up until her stomach refused to take any more – and then some. It was so good to eat, to be free to have what she wanted. It wasn't sea prunes or seal blubber, but right now she couldn't care less. If it had been rotten ostrich-horse, she still would have eaten it.
Sokka watched his sister munch with a satisfied smile on his face. He turned to Ailin. "How'd you convince her?"
Ailin shook her head. "I honestly don't know."
"Well, whatever it was, you're a genius," Sokka announced as Katara helped herself to seconds.
"Maybe," agreed Ailin. "Or just a mother."
"A mother?" Sokka was surprised. He had never thought about the Fire Nation women being mothers, which was pretty stupid considering he knew exactly how that nation – and the other two – had become populated by dribbling brats.
He wanted to ask Ailin more about it, but he was fourteen and it made him strangely uncomfortable to think about asking her, and besides her face had become closed as a clam. He knew that look from his mother; she wasn't going to say anything else.
When Katara had eaten her fill, Ailin approached her.
"Wasn't that good?"
Katara nodded. She was still terribly thin, but there was a shine in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Thank you for the food. And thank you… for other things." Now that she felt better, Katara's previous actions embarrassed her – she found she was blushing.
"But –" Sokka began. Katara wasn't supposed to like Ailin. What had changed her? What had happened? He glanced between the two, and saw that there was no hostility left. Maybe they used it all up.
"Can I change your bandage now?" asked Ailin.
Katara's gaze snapped to Sokka. "Sokka, no," she said in a low voice, quietly but urgently, her demeanor changing in a second.
Her brother gritted his teeth. He could tell another argument was coming. "Well –"
"No! It hurts too much!" Katara touched her bandage protectively and winced at the contact.
Pressing a finger to her forehead, Ailin sighed. Spirits, this girl was a nightmare to help. "It hurts all the more because your bandage is dirty. It's dangerous; it could get infected. You have to let me."
"Sokka –"
"She's right, Katara." Looking at the expression on his sister's face, Sokka felt like a traitor. "It's got to be done."
"But –"
Ailin spoke firmly. "I'm going to do it, Katara, whether you like it or not. But if you choose to struggle, it will just hurt you all the more. I don't want to hurt you –" Katara snorted "– I don't, but your wound gets infected, you might not even survive!"
That silenced Katara. She glanced from one to the other – Sokka, then Ailin, then back again – and saw the worry on their faces. They cared about her (though how somebody from the Fire Nation was capable of caring about anyone was a mystery), and she couldn't let them down. "Okay," she said faintly. Fear rose up in her chest. "Do it."
Katara's face was pale. She was sweating buckets. Her head hurt. Her brother's hands were on her shoulders, and she was sitting on the floor with her legs stuck straight out in front of her, and her back was against one of the posts of her bed.
Ailin, equipped with a bucket of warm water, a cloth, fresh bandages and a grim expression, knelt at Katara's feet. "I'm going to be as gentle as possible," she said, "but being slow will only make it more painful."
"It's going to hurt?"
"I'm afraid so."
Sokka squeezed Katara's shoulders extra hard. She felt faint, and leant her head back against the post.
"You ready?" Ailin paused to wait for her reply.
Katara couldn't speak. Her throat had closed up. Instead, she nodded, and Sokka spoke for her: "Yes."
Ailin peeled off the bandage quickly – and the pain was so bad, it was almost unendurable. Katara let out a great, gasping wail, her eyes squeezed tight shut. Tears escaped anyway, dribbling hotly down her cheeks.
"That hurts," she moaned. "That hurts. Stop, stop, I want my mum!"
"You've got me," Sokka said grimly. He pressed a hand to her forehead, giving Ailin a nod. The woman continued to take of the bandage. Katara screamed no more, but it was clear she wanted to – she bit on her lip so hard it bled, and sweat stuck her undergarments to her, and she was aware of nothing but Sokka's hand on her forehead and the pain in her leg –
"It's off," Ailin announced after what felt like hours.
Katara willed herself not to look at her shin. After all that pain, the result couldn't be good.
It wasn't that she was squeamish. She had grown up in a harsh environment, and she knew what blood looked like. She knew she could cope with other peoples' – but her own? In a strange place, where there was no home and no bed and no mum? She wasn't strong enough. She willed herself not to glance at the damage; not even when Sokka looked himself and his eyes widened in disgust.
"What is it?" she asked, panicking. Sokka merely shook his head.
It was Ailin who answered. "This is going to take a while to heal – if it does at all." Ailin began washing, and then redressing, Katara's leg. It didn't hurt as much as the un-bandaging, but oh, it felt terrible.
"What do you mean, 'if it does'? It will, won't it, Sokka?"
"I don't know, Katara."
"But you must know! Sokka! Tell me!"
"Don't look, Katara," was all he would say, over and over again. "Don't look."
But eventually, Katara couldn't help it. Just before Ailin covered the last part of the injury with cotton, she glanced down towards her feet.
Most of the wound was covered up, but there was one tiny cut and smudge still in sight. It was only a bit of blood, but it was enough – and Katara, who had hoped and hoped her memory would come back to her in the last lonely days, found that it did – or some of it – and it was –
"No! They're my children; you don't understand, you don't understand!" Katara's mother's figure was blotting out the sunlight. She was silhouetted, looking all the braver for it – and she was between the soldiers and her children –
Katara couldn't move. Another memory overcame her – she shut her eyes –
"Hush, hush, Katara, there's no use in crying! Wipe those silly tears away, sweetheart, and be brave. Look after her, Sokka. I love you both. Now go – oh, I'm so glad you know how to sail one of these things – and don't let anybody catch you. Just go – just go, and," tears glittered in her mother's eyes, "don't look back. No, don't look back. I love you. I love you. Goodbye!"
She was being bundled into a boat, with Sokka beside her. "No – no, you can't do it! Don't send me away, mum! I won't let you! No! No!"
But despite her protests, the shore was getting further and further away… Her mother's figure was a distant blot, barely distinguishable from the ice, now and Sokka was pulling her back to stop her from jumping out of the boat. "Mum told you not to look," he said over and over again – she was out of sight –
And then the scream came. High and painful and wild. It echoed off the surrounding icebergs all the way to their little boat.
Katara stopped fighting – she slumped into her brother's arms and didn't even cry. Tears would come later, she was sure of that – but now, the only thing she felt was numb. "Come on," said Sokka finally. "Let's start paddling."
"She's waking up," whispered Sokka as Katara's eyelids fluttered once and she rolled over. "Katara?"
His sister moaned. Ailin, sitting on a chair at the end of Katara's freshly-made bed, stood up and left the room. She could tell the two needed to be left alone.
"Ugh," was Katara's first word. "I feel terrible."
"You fainted," Sokka supplied. "Right after we changed your bandage. You looked, you stupid girl! You weren't supposed to look."
"I couldn't help… couldn't help it," murmured Katara, pulling the silky covers tighter around her. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. She didn't want to think about the fresh new memories in her mind, or even about home anymore. Now that 'home' might not even be there. Now that she knew it might be burned to the ground.
"You did look pretty terrible," sighed Sokka. "What was it? You were never scared of blood before."
"I'm not scared," said Katara indignantly, "I just – I remembered."
"You what?"
"I remembered. What happened, I mean." Suddenly, Katara felt worse even than she had upon waking up here. Home was gone, and her mother was dead, and she couldn't go back now, not ever –
"What? Was it an accident? A storm?" But Sokka knew it couldn't have been. Accidents, when the memory of them returned, didn't make you faint. Didn't make you scream like she had.
"No." Katara buried her face in her pillow, so that her next sentence was barely audible. "It was a Fire Nation raid." She paused. "And Sokka… Sokka, I don't even know whether she's still alive."
No need to ask who 'she' was. Sokka sat down heavily on the edge of Katara's bed and patted her back. "Mum'll be fine, you'll see. You'll see when we get home."
"I don't want to go back!" protested Katara, her voice sounding strangled. "You know what else I remembered? She's dead. She's dead and we can't do a thing about it." It was strange, the way she had done so much crying recently, and now that this terrible news had sunk in, she couldn't cry at all. Waiting for the tears to come, she felt stupid. Presently she sat up to find that Sokka had gone stock still.
"Don't talk like that," he said stonily, sounding so unlike himself that it was frightening.
Katara didn't want another argument, so she nodded.
"We both need to sleep." Sokka got into his bed and Katara curled up in hers, sighing as the warmth of the covers enveloped her once again. The bed wasn't a sleeping bag, but it was definitely as warm and comfortable as one. Sokka was slightly less happy with his sleeping arrangements – the wooden floor was uneven, with lumps sticking out in all the wrong places, and even soft pillows couldn't mask the fact that he was not sleeping in a proper bed.
"Well, goodnight, Sokka."
"'Night. And Katara?"
"Yes?" Already Katara's voice was heavy with sleep.
"I will find us a way to get back, I promise. Mum isn't dead."
His sister didn't reply – though whether that was because she disagreed with him or had fallen asleep, he didn't want to know.
A/N: Another chapter! Well, obviously. It was actually written a lot earlier than this, but I needed to make sure that the whole 'flashback' bit was as genuine as possible; because since the plan was written, I've become less happy with using 'death' in general as a plot device.
There were comments about the status of Katara's waterbending and stuff, so: She doesn't know she can yet. They don't tell us when she found out in the show, but I'm guessing it was when she was older because the thought probably didn't even cross her mind, being brought up in a village with no benders at all. Note I said 'yet'. Oh, yeah, and with regards to Ailin's age, she is in her late-fifties to early-sixties, though she is not wise like Iroh and is generally an impatient, no-nonsense sort of person. But she's kind, too.
You must think something after reading this, be it good or bad. Review and say, please
Thanks for reading! And thanks for the lovely reviews so far, too. They're great and made me smile. :P
PS: I do not support the hitting of children.Nope. Not at all. Only Ailin supports that, and this is the Fire Nation after all. ('Young man, when we get home, you're going to get the punishment of a lifetime!' 'That's what I like to hear'.) So don't try that at home!