zk week - day two
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title: vigil
summary: "There's something about having the whole night ahead of you while everyone else is asleep that just puts things in perspective, doesn't it?"
rating: T
word count: 1.026
notes: I'm terrible with deadlines. Ugh. But here's my (ridiculously late) contribution. Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter, they're highly appreciated!
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It's a cold night. The stars shine above, competing with the city lights bellow.
Katara leans against the railing, feeling a small shiver go down her spine. Takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment.
The rooftop is her favourite place in the whole hospital. Usually, she doesn't have much free time during her shifts (it seems to her that the weirdest cases always happen during the night shift), but then, very rarely, there are nights like this, in which she wanders through the sterile corridors, restlessly and aimlessly, with a cup of coffee in her hands.
In nights like this, she goes to the rooftop.
It's quiet and secluded, a place where she can rest without being bothered, organize her thoughts, prepare herself for another day.
Taking care of people's lives isn't an easy job.
(No matter how hard you try, you can't save everybody.)
Katara hears noise behind her. She whips her head back, and there's a guy on the doorway that leads to the rooftop, hand still over the handle.
He's one of the patients - Zuko. Came in during the afternoon with second-degree burns on both hands and a concussion. He is sickly pale, black hair sticking out in every possible direction. There's a blanket over his shoulders and his eyes widen when he sees her. The sight reminds Katara of young children, coming into their parents' room after having a nightmare.
"Oh - I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone here." He takes a step back, cautiously, and starts to leave. "I'll just -"
"Wait a sec." she says, crossing her arms.
He stops.
She then proceeds to use what Sokka likes to call The Angry Motherly Voice. "You really shouldn't be out of your room."
Zuko shifts his weight nervously. He looks at the space next to her when he speaks, voice so low that she almost doesn't catch the words. "I couldn't sleep."
Katara's eyes narrow a fraction. She surveys him - he can't be much older than she is ('a couple of years, maybe?'), but there's something about his face that tells her that he has seen too much. It's not just the scar - red and angry, covering a big area of the left side of his face - but it's mostly his eyes. Anger and sadness and loneliness trapped in amber.
He looks like someone who keeps watch at night, trying to keep the ghosts at bay.
(She knows all about ghosts that keep you awake at night.)
Finally, she uncrosses her arms, lets out a loud sigh and leans against the railing again. "Alright, you can stay."
He hesitates for a second. Then she hears soft footsteps approaching, until they stop at her side.
They stay silent for a moment.
Katara clears her throat. "So, how did you end up here?" she asks.
He looks taken aback, then frowns. "Well, I followed this long corridor and found the stairs-"
"No, no, not the rooftop." she shakes her head, the corners of her lips turning upwards in amusement. "I mean, how did you end up in the hospital."
He sighs, glances up at the sky. "It's complicated."
"Oh, come on. You can tell me."
Amber eyes stare at her for what seems like an eternity. He opens his mouth, closes it again, looks away. "There was a family argument, and things escalated quickly." he says simply.
"Is that how you got your scar?"
She regrets the question the moment it leaves her mouth.
It wasn't on purpose. Toph always says that she likes to pry on other people's lives, but Katara is just a curious, well-meaning person who doesn't always think before speaking.
She notices how his shoulders tense, the way his bandaged hands grip the cold metal of the railing, his mouth pressed in a thin line.
"I'm sorry, I really - it's none of my business."
The silence is suffocating, but she is too afraid to speak and make things worse.
"Yes." he says eventually, voice low. "That's how I got my scar."
The moon casts a silver glow to his skin, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out. She doesn't ask further. Doesn't dare to.
Katara tucks a strand of brown hair behind her ear, touches the necklace that rests against her skin. She has a flash of memory.
(Flames burning so bright they almost blind her - her mother's voice, urging her to run, telling her that it would be okay - and the scent of burnt flesh -)
"My mother died in a fire when I was younger." she blurts out. "I couldn't save her."
She doesn't know why she said it. She hasn't spoken about her mother's death to anyone in a long time. And still, saying the words out loud to this guy she just met on a rooftop at 2 a.m., she feels a heavy weigh being lifted off her shoulders.
There's a feather light touch on her hand. She looks at him, and there's an openness to his features, kindness, understanding.
"I lost my mother too."
A cold breeze hits her, and she shivers, wraps her arms around herself.
Zuko takes his blanket in both hands, starts to raise his arms, but then stops, shifts his weight awkwardly.
"Uh - we can share my blanket, if that's alright with you, Doctor."
She smiles, just a bit. "You can call me Katara."
They stand close, the blanket draped over their shoulders. He seems to emanate warmth, and Katara is grateful for that.
She looks down, watches the cars coming and going, nothing more than blurs of colour so far below.
"One of the things that I like about coming up here is that all the problems we have seem small, even if just for a moment."
He hums in agreement, looking up at the sky. "There's something about having the whole night ahead of you while everyone else is asleep that just puts things in perspective, doesn't it?"
Their gazes meet, and Katara knows deep in her bones that they won't need to watch for ghosts, not tonight.
(The moon watches over them.)
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notes: the rest of the one-shots will arrive late too, so bear with me, people