Chapter 3

Sokka woke up feeling considerably better than he had been when he went unconscious. He found that his clothes had been washed and placed on the stand next to his bed [and was in his undergarments]. Glancing over at Katara, who was in the bed next to his, he saw that her situation was similar, though all he could see of her was her bushy, curly brown hair. He sighed.

"Damn it, Katara," he thought, "It's a really good thing that that boy passed by when he did, otherwise we'd both be dead."

"Oh," said a female voice that Sokka knew did not belong to his sister, "you're awake." It was a medic of course.

"Aye," said Sokka, massaging his head, "what happened?"

"Various things," the medic replied, "in essence you and your girlfriend there almost bled to death. You children need to be more careful with your relationships."

"Um," said Sokka, feeling slightly awkward, "she's not my girlfriend."

"I understand, honey," she said sweetly, now rubbing some type of ointment on Sokka's arm which stung rather badly,

"No, no," he said, "you don't. That's not my girlfriend over there. That's my sister."

"Ah," the woman replied, now moving to Sokka's other arm, in a different location where he had sustained yet another wound, "my sincerest apologies then for the mistake. May I ask what happened?"

"It's a complicated story," Sokka replied, "but I guess I should disclose it so that there is no confusion as to what happened."

Sokka proceeded to explain what had happened, and how much of the damage on both siblings was due much in part to Katara. He also explained the reasoning for why Katara was like that.

"She's really stressed," he remarked, "and for her to have that much power just waiting to consume her..."

"I understand, sweetie," the medic replied. There was another medic who was working on Katara, though she was still either asleep or unconscious, "don't worry; at the rate we're getting you two to recover at, you'll both be out of here in no time."

"Thank you," Sokka replied,

"No," the medic replied, "thank you. It is an honor to know that the most powerful bender in the world has come here."

"The what," Sokka exclaimed,
"Katara Altina II is the talk of the region," the other medic replied, looking up, "that girl's power is the stuff of legend."

"Huh boy," Sokka muttered under her breath; poor Katara was never going to get time alone, if even the medical staff knew what she was famous for. He cursed under his breath.

"Now," said the first medic, getting Sokka's attention, "make sure you get some rest. That's the best that can be done for these wounds of yours at this point."

"Alright," Sokka replied, glancing over at his sister, "oh, and there's something important you should know about Katara: Every few hours or so, her body temperature will start to rise. When it does, get her outside, and get her outside FAST. That's the sign that her energy is building up, and she obviously doesn't use it indoors. However, if she's forced to hold it in for too long, the results can be devastating. I just thought that you should know that so she doesn't set this whole place on fire, you know?"

"We shall do our best," they replied, and that was what they did.

Ultimately, the rest of Sokka and Katara's time in the hospital was not too eventful. Katara would be periodically taken out to release her energy, and she was still bitter and hostile, not talking to anyone unless she absolutely had to. They were released about a week later because of the severity of their situation. Sokka had deducted that although it was not the highest-quality establishment that the staff was skilled at what they did and they sacrificed quality of the establishment for quality of the staff, which is why the two siblings were not in there for longer, like they normally would have been.

Upon their release, they went back to their father's old summer home. Neither one of them talked to each other. Sokka was willing, but Katara's mouth was sealed. She was still very angry and bitter about everything, but Sokka also knew she was depressed. Sokka, being the 'voice of reason' that he so often was, tried to get her to talk, but with no success. Every time he did, she would cross her arms and make sure her back was to him.

However, Sokka was just as stubborn as his sister, and so this did not faze him. Eventually, Katara cracked.

"Will you shut up and leave me alone," she snapped, "I can't even get a moment by myself from you either; sweet spirits..."

"Alright then," Sokka replied flatly, "I'll leave you here for a day and see how you turn out. I hope you don't burn the house down."

Katara said nothing. She crossed her arms and glared at Sokka with a piercing expression. Sokka said nothing and left the house. He knew that Katara needed him, and he wanted to prove it. He went into town and was gone a while.

Katara was fine alone for the first little while, but eventually her mind began wandering. To kill time, Katara got out some drawing supplies, which had been kept there when Katara was a little girl. Drawing was Katara's way of expressing herself, for because of her uncontrollable emotions, she was never sent to school, and therefore could not read or write like Sokka could. Katara's artistic skills were pretty decent, and she enjoyed it, so she continued to get better.

Generally, when Katara drew something, it was whatever she was thinking about at the time. She was pretty good too, and so her drawings were rather realistic, and she was constantly improving. This image though was an image of Sokka. He was just standing there, with his traditional expression—one that was trying to reason with Katara.

She paused, and looked at it for a long time.

Sokka came back several hours later and found Katara just like he predicted he would—she was crying; sobbing; her face buried in her arms as she sat at the table where she had been drawing earlier. Seconds later, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright," he asked her, and she didn't respond. The bushy mass of loose, impossibly curly dark brown hair moved slightly when Katara sniffled, but Sokka could not see her face. He sat down next to her, and gently lifted her face so that she was looking directly into his eyes. Katara at first shied away, but Sokka was persistent. Eventually, Katara got around to speaking.

"The only person I could ever look into the eyes of was daddy," she said, still sniffling; "and yet... you... you look just like him almost."

Sokka smiled. "That's what I'm here for," he said, "I'm never going to be able to be what dad was to you, but I'm here to try my best. He never told you this, but he told me something when I was a little boy. In fact, it was my 7th birthday, only a month or two before he disappeared."

"Son," said Zuko, taking Sokka and looking him straight in the eye, "I want to tell you something very important."

Sokka looked back into the eyes of Zuko, his father. He was always known as a mature boy, at least for his age.

"What is it, dad?" he asked curiously;

"There are mean people out there who want to take your sister," he said, "and as the head of this family, I'm going to be the one to protect her, you, and your mother. Depending on the scale of the attack, I might be killed. It depends on who will be there to help me, and some other things. The point though, Sokka, is that I might not be here to take care of Katara. If for some reason this is true, it's going to become your responsibility to care for her. She's dangerous; unstable; scared. She needs you, Sokka. You two have an amazing bond."

"I know," said Sokka, "but why do mean people want to take Katara?"

"Because of her power," Zuko replied, "people want her to fight in the war. She's already more powerful than some of their trainees."

"That's not right," said Sokka, "they can't do that. We're just kids."

"I know that, and they do too," said Zuko, "but that's the thing: they don't care. They see her as a tool—a weapon. They don't see her as a living person with thoughts and feelings of her own. To them, your sister is just a powerful fire-shooting machine."

"That's so wrong," said Sokka, "what kind of people are these freaks?"

"Corrupted, twisted villains," Zuko replied, "Son, it is crucial to everything this family holds dear that you do not let your sister fall into their hands should I disappear."

"I understand," Sokka replied, "I'm not going to let anyone touch Katara, ever. They can't do that to her. She's already got it bad enough as it is; poor Katara."

Zuko put his arms around the boy, for Sokka's eyes were watering in sympathy for poor Katara, who would likely be hunted her whole life unless the war ended between then and now.

"He..." Katara sniffed, "daddy told you to do this?"

"Aye," Sokka replied, "because he loved you. I love you too, Katara. I don't want you falling into the hands of The Order any more than dad did. I love you, Katara. Come here."

He put her arms around her and she did the same, breaking down."

"I'm sorry," she said, crying again, "it's just... it's..."

"Let it out, Katara," said Sokka, gently stroking her hair, "let it all out."

"I MISS HIM!!!" Katara yelled, still sobbing strongly,

"I know," Sokka replied, "I do too. And I know he's watching you right now—he's going to be proud of his daughter, right, Katara?"

Katara sniffled again, slowing down significantly.

"Aye," she replied firmly, "aye, he will."

"Exactly," said Sokka, smiling, still stroking her hair, "because I'm going to be here to help you get control of that power of yours, Katara."

"Thanks," Katara replied, "it's just... I feel like I can't even control my own emotions. I'm scared, Sokka. What's going to happen to me?"

"You're busy focusing your control on more important things, Katara," Sokka replied, "you're not going to die from uncontrollable emotions. Unfortunately, in your case, you might from uncontrollable power. That's why your mind wants you to focus on your power for now. Your body and spirit have a will to live, Katara. Perhaps there is something out there that neither of us knows about."

"Like what?" Katara asked, still looking slightly worried;

"Well," said Sokka, "possibilities are endless. There was no funeral when dad died. In fact, they don't know if he's even dead. All we know was there was a little blood, and his body was never found. For all we know, he could be alive somewhere."

Katara's eyes widened.

"Daddy's alive," she exclaimed,

"Maybe," Sokka replied, "I personally think he's passed away. However, I've been known to be wrong before. Don't lose hope, Katara. Regardless of what happens, you'll never be alone."

Katara smiled, and stood up.

"I need to go release some energy," she said bluntly, though she looked slightly happier;

"Alright," Sokka replied, "do you want me to go with you?"

"I'd rather be alone," Katara replied, "I mean; you know how bad I am at trying to control myself. I don't want you seeing me hurt myself the way I do. It's not a pretty site."

Sokka stopped, looking slightly puzzled.

"Katara," she exclaimed, "What are you talking about?"

Katara looked down at the ground shyly.

"Katara," said Sokka, pressuring her into telling

"It's just..." Katara stammered; "maybe you should see for yourself."

Katara removed her shirt. Her midriff, back, and shoulders were just as scarred as the rest of her body.

"I..." she stuttered, "I'm like this almost all over. Pretty much the only place I'm not is my hands and forearms, and that's 'coz I never take these off anymore."

Katara was referring to her arm braces when she said this, which covered her forearms and hands, only revealing her fingertips. She kept her pants and boots on as well, for removing her shirt had proved enough of her point. [And she wasn't topless]

"Katara," Sokka exclaimed, "this is terrible."

"I know it is," Katara replied, "it's just something I need to work on, alright? Can you help me with it, please?"

"I would be more than happy to," he said, hugging Katara the way she was, "I'm your brother. I love you."

Katara simply closed her eyes. This was all Sokka needed right now.