I'm really sorry this took so long to get posted. I promise that this time, it wasn't my fault.

I want you all to know I haven't forgotten about this story, though. Please enjoy, and review. I'm going to nap now, thanks for reading!

Chapter Sixteen
Tension

Katara was smiling. Joy was thrumming through her veins, giving a slight tingle to her skin when she moved. Her eyes were hungrily devouring his face, taking it piece by piece and reassembling the image in her mind, to lock away, safe and sound. She had spent enough time, wasted years sharing him with the others. But this was for her, and her alone- this heavenly image, a small token to carry with her always.

"I miss you so much," she said, and he smiled gently at her, dressed in the informal clothes he'd worn when they were younger. Zuko had once complained about how the Fire Lord is always dressed in ceremonial robes- she'd laughed and told him that other nations might think he was a ninny if they found out he went to peace councils in his pajamas.

"I miss you too, Katara… but I'm worried. I want you to be happy." His voice faded into nothing as tears came to her eyes, and she shook her head, clutching his robes and pulling him closer.

"I'm happy now, with you," she whimpered, her voice breaking as the pain cut the strings of her will. "This is the only time I can actually… I just- I love you, Zuko." She closed her eyes as his hands traced her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Oh, Katara," he sighed, "I love you too. But you can't be with me, not yet. You're too important to just throw it all away." She dug her nails into the skin of her arm and began to feel the dream slip away. Her eyes burst open, and she reached out to him.

"Zuko!" she cried, panicked at the thought of losing him so soon. He was sliding away from her, standing and watching her leave with sorrow in his eyes.

"It's okay, Katara. I'm always with you." She shook her head.

"Then why can't I feel you?" she murmured, and suddenly he was close again, and his lips were on hers, tasting of the sweetest promise he could make. It was silence, pure and simple and filled with poorly-masked desperation. It wasn't an answer, a denial or an affirmation. It was everything she didn't need but couldn't live without.

"I have to go," he told her firmly, but his hands didn't release hers. "Wait for me, Katara. Don't join me yet. Just wait for me."

"Endlessly," she said, and sealed the vow with another kiss, just the lightest touch which carried the weight of all they would never do, never see together.

And just like that, he was gone, and she was coming back, and-

Katara gasped as her eyes opened, felt agony lancing through her side, and froze, letting the waves crash over her before even realizing that they were made of icy, burning pain, not the water she commanded. She could see, but she couldn't make sense of what she saw- just meaningless shapes in a monochromatic backdrop.

Think, she commanded herself, trying to gather the bird-like thoughts hurtling around her skull. Still, she couldn't shake the desire to just close her eyes and fall back into her dream world. She forced her hands to move, and felt something soft beneath her fingers. It gave slightly when she pressed down, and she tried to take in a deep breath, not expecting the pain to rip her eyes wide open.

The burst of adrenaline was all it took for her surroundings to assemble themselves into reality. Katara looked around the small room, not recognizing it exactly, but knowing she'd seen the dim lighting and the earthen walls before. She was in a rickety little bed with the covers pulled over her body- but something was missing.

She ran her hands over her body, bothered by the alien feel of her skin, then stiffened- she shouldn't be feeling skin where her pants were supposed to be. The realization dawned on her, and she felt for her skimpy little costume top, finding it instead replaced by a black shirt which billowed around her, twisting beneath the sheets and constricting her movements.

"Damn," she swore, and then froze as the door began to creak open. She catapulted herself out of the bed instinctively, bringing her arms up for a fight, then felt the world tip. She crashed to the floor, dizzy and aching, while stinging nettles spilled from her side. She felt her eyes close without permission, and curled up, trying to stem the flow of pain from her wound.

Strong hands pulled at her shoulder and looped under her knees, lifting her off the ground and back onto the bed. She sighed and opened her eyes, the gaze traveling up black gloved hands, over a black shirt that was eerily similar to the one she wore, and stopping on a bright blue and white demon leering down at her. She recoiled when he reached out for her, but he just stopped moving, looking down at her.

"The Blue Spirit," she murmured, and he nodded slowly. He held up one finger as if telling her to wait, and left the room. She didn't try to get up again, knowing that she was too weak to escape. It was better to be complacent now, to find out where she was and how to get out, and make her move when she was ready.

He entered again, holding a roughly hewn wooden bowl. He set it on the table, set a spoon in it, and left. She waited, but he didn't come back in. The smell of the food was appetizing, making the hollowness in her stomach more prominent. Katara picked up the bowl and sniffed, trying to determine if there was an acidic scent, anything that didn't belong there. Then, she tipped the soup down her throat and laid back.

Her mind replayed the last things she remembered as she burrowed deep under the covers, moving gingerly to keep her side from ripping open. She knew Ursa could be in trouble for talking to her, but trusted the woman enough to take care of herself. And Han- he'd tried to kill her.

She didn't blame him for the most part- she knew the desperation he must have felt, knowing that if his mother died, it would have been his fault. But it didn't matter if she blamed him or not- he was dead anyways.

She heard a soft knock on the door, and the Blue Spirit opened it again, then approached her steadily and held out a ratty piece of paper. The writing was thick and clumsy, but she could still make it out- 'I need to redress your bandages. I promise not to hurt you.'

The waterbender shook her head with a wan smile. "I can take care of myself. I just need my water, and then I can heal this thing and get out of your hair." She squinted at him, at the black hood covering his head, and shrugged. "If you have hair, that is."

Blue looked down at her for a moment, then slowly nodded. She took it to mean that he had hair, but then he pulled her pack from underneath the bed, went inside it and brought out her water skin.

"Thanks," she muttered, and uncorked it, putting her palm over the mouth and drawing it upwards. Nothing happened. She glanced at the masked man standing above her, then furrowed her brow in concentration and tried again. This time, a shaky little stream of water followed her movements, and sweat broke out on the back of her neck. It felt as if the water weighed as much as a rock- was this how earthbenders felt?

The water slithered back into its home as she dropped her hand, breathing hard. It scared her, not being able to bend without becoming so tired. It scared her because there was a strange man in her room- though from the look of things, it might be his room- and because she wasn't entirely sure why he protected her and looked after her.

"Sorry, Blue," she said, and watched him stiffen at the nickname. She smiled in triumph, but he just held out the sign again, pointing to it for emphasis. But the cut from Han's knife was on her side, and she only had on a shirt. She'd have to pull it up… Katara's eyes widened, then narrowed, and she folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"What happened to my clothes? Why aren't I wearing pants?" she demanded, and Blue stepped back at the sound of her cold voice. He got on his knees and rummaged around under the bed, pulling out a dark red torn shirt and a ragged pair of pants. She recognized the shorts, but her shirt had been a light golden color, not…

"Oh," she said. The red color was dried blood, she could see splotches of gold on the short capped sleeves. Her face suddenly felt cool, and the soup threatened to make a reappearance. "I didn't know that I… bled so much. Sorry, I thought- well, that's not important. Never mind." Blue held up his finger again and came back with a pile of loose paper, an ink-stone and water and a brush. He set it down on the bedside table and scrawled something with his left hand.

'I swear I didn't do anything but change your clothes. You had your-" he paused, then kept writing, "little cover things on the entire time. There was just a lot of blood. I need to check the wound and redress it, but I won't touch you unless it's okay with you." She nodded, and he pulled more white bandages from under the bed.

"How much stuff do you have under there?" she wondered aloud, and then turned over onto her right side, letting him pull down the sheets. She gasped when she felt his icy hand pulling up her shirt, and stilled under his gentle touch.

It had been the longest time since anyone had ever handled her so carefully. Even Aang's movements had always been rushed and uncertain- nothing like the practiced, swift movements of the mysterious guardian. He deftly untied the white ribbon-like fabric, and she watched as he rolled it around her body in the opposite way it had been put on. She arched her hips so that he could get the binding the rest of the way off, and gasped with pain when the movement opened the cut on her side.

His gloved hands rested on her hips, and his thumb rubbed slow, soothing circles on her skin. She felt herself grow warm, and looked away when he drew back. She heard the whisper of a brush on paper, felt him tap her shoulder. When she looked over, he was holding out another note. 'Sorry if this hurts.'

She nodded tightly and turned back slowly, then felt something swipe across the cut and bit her lip, hard. Tears sprang to her eyes as he cleaned the skin, washing away all the dried, congealed blood and leaving small pink rivers to drift over her stomach. He put a wad of something soft over the gash, and she smelled tea tree oil just before feeling it drip coolly over her side. Blue pressed a line of cotton down as she would have done as the Painted Lady, and then began to wrap it again.

After he was done, her chest felt tight and her head swam. "Thanks," she gasped out, and he wrote down 'you're welcome.'

Katara let a half-smile grace her face, then rolled her eyes. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you just talked. No matter what I do, you never say anything."

'I can't' he wrote back, and her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Why not?" she asked, and leaned over gently to see what he was writing. She uncertainly laid a hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the fluid tension in his muscles, flexing and relaxing under her touch.

'I was born a mute. It isn't something that can be healed, I've dealt with it all my life and that won't stop now.' She watched the man hold out the paper to her, and nodded her understanding.

Katara inhaled, felt the tightness of the bandages keeping her body together, and winced. "Thank you for everything," she began, "but I really need to go home. Is there any way you could show me how to get out of here so that… what?" He was shaking his head, and she felt tendrils of anxiety lapping at her stomach. "What are you saying no to?"

He turned and began to write, making her wait impatiently. She snatched the paper from him when he was done, reading it out loud and feeling the color leave her face. "Your apartment is being watched. The boy in Ember Island isn't the only one who wants you dead." She snorted and crumpled the paper in her fist. "Tell me something I don't know," she muttered.

'Why are they after you?' he asked her, sliding another note into view. It was the type of question that set off alarm bells, and she stared at the paper tensely for a moment before realizing her stupidity. The Blue Spirit just might be the only one left in the city who actually looked out for her. Hadn't he killed Han? Hadn't he taken her back to somewhere in Caldera, kept her from dying? And even though she hadn't known Lani at the time, the Blue Spirit had saved them both in the alley that day.

"They are after me because I'm trying to find something that should be buried," she murmured, and suddenly, her muscles relaxed and breathing became easier. Saying it was a relief, something she'd never thought she'd feel so strongly. "I want to know who killed Zuko, and when I find out, I want to kill them, too."

'Why?' She stared at the slashed question mark, the clumsy dip and swirl of his letters, and felt his curiosity burning a hole through her trepidation. She looked from the paper into the black pits which served as his eyes, wondering what sort of man would hide behind a mask from the one he protected so fiercely.

"Because I loved him," she said simply, her cerulean gaze wide and pure. "I loved Zuko, even though we couldn't be together, and he loved me. He was everything I had ever wanted- and I know I've changed, and that even if he was still alive, we wouldn't be together, but he's all I think about anymore. Him and my daughter- well, you know Lani. Thank you for that," Katara added, and Blue inclined his head.

"Zuko had hope for his nation, for this entire world. I was willing to stand behind him, because I loved him- I still do," she admitted, and then stopped, surprised by the welling knot in her throat and the exhaustion that suddenly wracked her body.

He seemed to notice her lack of energy, and wrapped his arm around her side, lowering her gently back onto her pillow. "Thank you," she whispered, searching hungrily for any hint of color behind the darkness of the eye holes. There was nothing, but nothingness wasn't as scary as it once had been to her. It was just another place to get lost when everything faded.

She felt a gloved finger stroke her cheek, and just had enough time to smile before she welcomed the abyss and went gratefully into unconsciousness.

When she next awoke, she could tell that hours had passed, and that the moon was waning. She felt it in the distance between the water and her power, she felt it in her blood. It was stronger than it had been in her youth, the connection between her body and her bending source. Katara stretched minimally, biting her lip to keep from swearing at the sharp pain of the knife wound.

Another urge was steadily approaching, a twinge in her bladder that couldn't be ignored. She swung her legs carefully out from under the sheets but sat up too quickly, gasping in shock and holding her ribs, trying not to panic at the agony. "Spirits damn this, I should have been healed by now," she cursed, and then stood up gingerly.

The room was dark, but there was a small candle flickering in its holder, and she took it, ignoring the hot wax drying on top of her skin, considering that the pain was minimal. She moved soundlessly to the door, and pushed it open slowly to avoid making a loud noise. It creaked, but there was nothing she could do to quiet it.

The hall was dark, but she could see small flickering flames on the walls, shadows dancing away from the torches. She put her right hand along the wall and searching forward with her feet as she had in the theater- she wondered if Su Li and Yuki were still talking to Chihiro, if Takani had looked for her at all or simply given her up as a runaway. They had been good friends, even if they never truly knew who she was. Maybe once all of this was over, she would go visit them.

She felt a disruption at the wall, felt something give beneath the weight of her hand, and brought the candle up to reveal a wooden door, smooth and polished. It wasn't locked, it was slightly open and she could see brightness emanating from behind it.

Katara couldn't stop the curiosity, and cautiously pushed the door open to see a figure wearing black, lying on his stomach. For a second she didn't realize who it was, but then saw the edges of a blue mask surrounding the jaw-line and smiled. Blue was asleep.

Her eyes traveled down his form, noting the way his hands clenched and twitched around imaginary swords and the hard, unforgiving angles of his shoulders. He was a strong man, probably more muscular than Zuko had been, but without the added benefit of bending. She smiled, then caught sight of a strip of pale skin and moved closer, entranced. His shirt had come untucked from his pants, and was rising above his lower back, showing off two small divots at the base of his spine- but there was a darker line across his skin, and her eyes widened as she realized what it was.

Brutal scars slashed across his back, mottled and raised like snake skin. It looked like someone had ripped him apart with no direction, just let the blows hit wherever they were going. It was uncontrolled, wild. She bent down, and before she knew what she was doing, her fingers drifted across the exposed skin, tracing a long, thin scar.

He erupted in movement, swinging around, grabbing her wrists and pinning her down. It hadn't even taken a second, and she froze with him on top of her, his stomach pressed against hers, his heartbeat pounding against her own chest. She was caged by his body, by the soulless slits he had for eyes. She stared up into them for what seemed like forever, and then his weight was gone, and he was standing up, striding away from her.

Katara let out a shaky breath and sat up, desperately trying to maintain her composure. She followed him out of the room and into the hall, barely conscious of the pain lancing through her wound. He walked around the corner, and she followed him into the room where they had questioned the Dai Li agent.

"What happened to you?" she asked, her voice cracking, and he stopped walking, then turned and shook his head. She stepped closer, he stepped back with his hands up, telling her clearly to stay away. She took a small step away from him, her mind racing, and studied him.

Finally, she sighed and hung her head. "I wasn't trying to… to see your face, or anything. I know that if you wanted me to know who you are, you would have taken off your mask by now." Silence greeted her words, exactly as she'd expected, and she felt the tension slither away from her body. He turned back away from her, his shoulders slumped, and she felt shame color her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Blue," she said, and then tried again, walking slowly to him, giving him time to walk away. He didn't, and she reached a trembling hand out to touch his shoulder lightly. When he didn't flinch away, she breathed a sigh of relief. A sense of déjà vu washed over her, and she said hesitantly, "I could try to heal the scars, you know. I don't know if it would work, but…"

He grabbed her hand and began to turn, keeping her fingers on his body but moving them from his shoulder to his chest. She felt his heart beating steadily through the fabric and skin which hid it, and he shook his head. She laughed softly. "I wasn't really expecting you to agree," she murmured, and once again felt his hand on her cheek.

She felt like he was pulling her in, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. His hand drifted down her neck, and over her shoulder before he stepped away. She felt the blush on her face grow hotter, and leaned back, somewhat horrified by the attraction she felt. She was living for Zuko now, there wasn't any room for a mysterious, tall dark stranger.

"Where's the bathroom?" she blurted, and then shut her mouth, wondering if there was anything more awkward that she could have said. Blue cocked his head to one side, then pointed to a door on the other side of the room. "Thanks," she muttered, and turned. He stopped her by grabbing her wrist, but she didn't look back to him, afraid of what she might imagine in the depth of the mask's eyes.

He caressed one smooth circle around the joint of her wrist bone, and then she felt him no more. She heard his near-silent footsteps moving away from her, and once more felt tension stronger than steel on her back. She left the room, unsettled, intrigued, and ashamed that for one moment, she'd forgotten all about the reason she was even still there.

Please review!