Things are weird without mom.

There's no one to tell her stories before bedtime. There's no one to one to pat her head and squeeze her tight when she cries. There's no one to watch the sunset with.

Katara has her mother's necklace now. She feels strange wearing it. There are days when she'll take it off and stare at it.

There are some days when Katara just coops herself up in her room and cries.

There are some days when she goes through the motions, not really living but just existing.

And then there are days like today.

She walks into Gran Gran's home with watery eyes and her head held high, Nukka trailing after her.

"I want to see it," she states.

Hama, who is visiting with her Gran Gran, shakes her head, disturbed. "Listen, child—"

"This way, Katara." Gran Gran stands up and shuffles into an adjoining room and Katara follows her.

"Kanna, this just isn't healthy."

Gran Gran shoots Hama a hard look over her shoulder. "It is her way of grieving."

She leads Katara into the room and gestures to the pelt rolled up against the side of the wall.

Katara pulls it out and lays it flat on the floor before sitting down at the end of it, not quite on top.

The fur of the white winter bear is still soft underneath her fingers. She starts to tremble, all different kinds of emotions welling up inside of her.

Last winter had been hard. And this bear had been starving…

Her dad had put a spear through its head after the incident.

Katara sniffs, curling her fingers into the pelt. "Do you…do you think this bear was…" she pauses, searching for the right word, "…evil?"

There is a long stretch of silence from behind her and for a moment Katara thinks that her grandmother has left her alone.

Finally, "No, little Katara. I don't."

Katara lets out a shaky breath of relief. She loves animals. Despite everything she would like to think that the winter bear that killed her mother wasn't bad.

"I don't think the Spirits create things that are purely evil," her grandmother continues. "Especially animals. Animals become hungry, they starve. They kill because they have to, because they can't fathom the consequences of their actions. An animal does not kill simply to kill."

Katara barely notices the tears slipping down her cheeks. She's become used to crying. Nukka whines and nuzzles her neck.

"What about people who are bad?" she questions softly.

Gran Gran lets out a long suffering sigh. "The human heart can blacken over time. We must strive to keep ourselves strong, even in hardships. Otherwise…"

Katara nods, understanding.

They sit in silence for a long time.

"Gran Gran, can I write a letter?"

Her characters are sloppy and she smudged the ink, but she's written this all by herself.

Dear Zuko,

I miss you. See you soon.

-Katara

And then, as an afterthought:

Dear Mom,

I miss you too.

She tucks that letter underneath her pillow. Her dreams are more peaceful after that.

There's the clanging sound of steel against steel, and Katara watches Zuko and Sokka's sword fighting lesson with curiosity.

Swords aren't really used in the South Pole. Her people use spears, knives, boomerangs, and the occasional harpoon for whale hunting.

A man, Master Piandao, is patiently instructing both boys—Zuko with his double swords, and Sokka with his single.

Katara could watch them all day. She thinks she might be able to sucker one of them into teaching her a few sword fighting techniques after their lesson is over.

Then someone tugs her sleeve sharply.

She looks up from where she's sitting to see Azula clutching a bow and arrow. "Come here, I want to show you something."

Katara stands up and follows the other girl into a seperate training area where targets have been set up.

Apparently Prince Ozai wanted both his children to train in a weapon. Zuko chose sword fighting. Azula chose archery.

"Watch this," Azula lets lose an arrow and it hits the center of the target with ease. She lowers her bow and offers Katara a smirk.

Katara smiles, impressed. "Wow! You're really good!"

Azula gives a half shrug, trying not to look as pleased as she is. "Thanks."

The other girl sits down next to Katara, showing her firebending tricks and babbling on about her school and her school friends.

"You should invite them over!" Katara suggests. She thinks it would be interesting to meet other Fire Nation girls her age.

Azula makes a face. "Why would I do that?"

"Because they're your friends—"

She's cut off by Azula's eye roll.

"Katara, I don't need them when you're here."

Katara feels confused. "I don't—"

Azula rolls her eyes again, clearly exasperated. "I like you more then I like them. I don't see the point in them coming over."

She stands up and starts to shoot the arrows again.

A few minutes later Sokka strolls in, a little sweaty from his sword fighting lesson. He pauses to watch Azula shoot.

And Azula misses. Her arrow hits the outer edge of the target.

The princess whirls around, furious. "You made me miss!" she snarls.

Sokka merrily shrugs, laughing. "Nuh uh."

And then they start to chase each other around.

Katara takes that as her clue to leave.

She makes her way back to where the sword fighting was, hoping to see some more of the lesson.

But the area is empty, to her disappointment.

The swords are still there, however.

She picks up Sokka's sword with a grin, swinging it around and jabbing it at nothing. She thinks she could be a great warrior. With a sword and her waterbending, she'd be amazing!

Much better than Sokka. And Zuko.

Boys aren't nearly as good as girls. Everyone knows this.

She stops after awhile and holds up the sword to inspect it. There's intricate designs cut into the steel and she moves her finger to barely trace over the edge—

And nicks herself anyway.

She lets out a hiss of pain. The tip of her finger is bleeding now.

It's not really so bad. Nothing a proper bandage and a hug can't fix.

But it does hurt. It burns and stings.

She starts to make her way into the palace when something captures her attention.

There is a small, decorative fountain that sits at the edge of the training area, marking the entrance into the gardens.

She can't seem to look away from the water. She can feel it's rush and splash.

It was calling to her.

She quickly makes her way to it without hesitation and plunged her hand into the stream.

It glows blue and the small cut at the tip of her finger knits itself back together.

Gasping, she holds her hand up to see if she's imagined it.

She hasn't. The cut was gone.

Had she never cut herself in the first place?

Now she was just confused.

She stares at the sword, then back at her hand.

The blade is pretty sharp. She could easily nick her hand again and see if the water heals her like it had before. To make sure she hadn't made it up.

She puts the blade against her hand, her curiosity outweighing the fear of the pain.

A pale hand knocks the blade away.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Zuko shouts, livid.

"I—"

"Don't do that! Don't you ever do that!" He's shaking he's so angry.

"I'm sorry!" she cries. "I was just—"

"You can't just go and DO something like that!" he interrupts. "You can't!"

"What did you think I was going to do?" she snaps back, feeling flustered.

Zuko's breaths are ragged. "Mom says that sometimes when people get really sad…" he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

Katara realizes that he's not angry.

He's scared.

She quickly shakes her head. "I wasn't going to do that!"

"Yes you were." She can see the accusation in his eyes, the hurt and the fear.

"No, no I— you're bleeding."

He glances down at his hand, as if just now noticing the gash stretching across the inside of his fingers where he'd knocked the blade away. He immediately puts his hand behind his back where she can't see it.

And somehow, by instinct, she knows just what to do.

"Give me your hand," she instructs.

He shakes his head stubbornly. "No. We should go see my mom."

"Give me your hand," she asks again, voice soft.

He sighs and finally holds it out to her.

She calls the water and surrounds his injury with it. Just like before it glows blue and erases the gash, clearing away the blood.

She lets the water fall and pulls away, triumphant. "I knew I didn't imagine it! I was going to cut myself with the sword to make sure."

Zuko is blinking down at his perfectly whole hand before looking back up at her.

"Waterbenders are weird."

The nightmares come again.

They're awful.

There's screaming and the roar of a bear, but there's so much snow and Katara can't see. There's red, so much red, and then Sokka is grabbing her and dragging her away—

She wakes up to something licking her face.

Nukka is standing over her, whining in her show of concern.

Katara rolls out of bed and makes her way out of her room.

She and Zuko have an unspoken agreement that this is what she is to do whenever she has nightmares.

She lets herself into his room. He's fast asleep, but that's okay. She climbs up onto the other side of the bed along with Nukka, who acts as a barrier between the two children. She curls up against her wolf, feeling warm.

But it's the knowledge that Zuko is on the other side that makes her feel safe.

She thinks that this summer was better than before.

There were a few days when she forgot that mother was supposed to be there.

But only a few.

She's about to climb aboard the ship that will take her home.

There's a nudge against her shoulder and she turns around.

Zuko gives her the fastest hug in the history of mankind, barely putting his arms around before immediately pulling away again. A blush pops up against his cheeks. He hands her a folded up piece of parchment.

"Open it when you get home. See you next summer."

"Goodbye, Zuko." She gives him a teary smile. He returns it.

She waits until she gets home, like he asked.

Dear Katara,

I miss you. See you soon.

-Zuko

A/N:

Thank you for the reviews from last chapter! Glad you guys don't hate me! :)

This chapter turned out a little darker then I had anticipated, mostly because Katara is obviously still depressed over Kaya. The next chapter should be much much happier, promise.

Please leave me your thoughts!