It was raining the first time Katara told Aang she loved him. The most surprising aspect of all of it had been that Katara had been the one to say it first. Not that Aang had ever doubted her conviction in their relationship but had always believed he'd felt stronger for her much faster. But there they were, rain soaking their clothes, hearing the words out of Katara's mouth.
It had started with the rain that day.
Staying in Ba Sing Se was never Aang's favorite pastime but the Earth King, forced to grow an actual spine, had insisted most ardently that the Avatar the Fire Lord travel to the Earth Kingdom for discussions. Perhaps his advisors thought to make the Avatar look like a puppy who would come when called and the Fire Lord his dancing puppet. Regardless, they obeyed. If they were ever going to make this fifth nation work, they needed the Earth King's support.
So they were back in the Upper Ring in Ba Sing Se. When Aang wrote Katara from the Fire Nation to tell her he'd be in the Earth Kingdom capital she traveled up to meet him. And there they were, a rare day off from delegations, tangled up on the couch where they'd fallen asleep the night before playing Pai Sho.
And it was raining. For some reason that was important to Katara right away when she woke.
"Oh," she said, hearing the patter of raindrops hitting the walls outside and the she caught sight of the grey light coming in the window.
"It's not like there's much to do outside in this city anyway," Aang reasoned. He was lying of course, he had a talent for finding the fun things to do in even the most miserable places. But Katara seemed particularly not in the mood.
Aang stood and stretched and her heard Katara shuffle behind him to stand as well. At seventeen he was a whole head taller than her now, he'd teasingly rest his chin on the tip of her head to make his point and she'd giggle then smack him. But today she looked very…well, as dreary as it was outside.
"It's just rain," he mumbled into her hair, coming up behind her to snake his arms around her middle.
"Yeah," she barely responded, "How fitting."
How fitting? What had that meant? Aang raised an eyebrow as Katara slipped from his grasp to get changed upstairs in her room. Aang heard the door close and frowned. She had been perfectly fine yesterday, laughing at even the most awful of Iroh's jokes, actually inviting Zuko to dinner with them to ease his loneliness with Mai back in the Fire Nation, and vehemently getting into a Pai Sho tournament with Aang until late into the night.
And now, now she seemed quite miserable. And all because of rain? Aang knew something very odd was going on. But he feared pressing the matter too forcibly, Katara could be a short fuse when it mattered to her.
Aang decided to get changed himself. He made a habit of wearing Earth Kingdom clothes in the Earth kingdom, Fire Nation in the Fire Nation, but with his day off and only Katara to see him, he dressed in his robes again. In the mirror of his room he studied the stumble along his jaw, prepared to shave it when Katara gave up use of the bathroom.
"Do you think I should group a beard?" he asked Katara when she stepped out of the bathroom, still turning his face at different angles in the mirror.
She walked up to him and placed a hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. She ran the back of her hand under the prickly hair of his chin.
"A beard would be better then this," she said, running her fingers once more across the harsh stubble. She lightly kissed him and went downstairs, quiet again. Aang frowned but didn't lift the razor to his face that morning.
Back downstairs, Katara was on the couch sipping tea, quietly. Aang watched her before she knew he was there. He could practically see the cogs working in her head as she stared into space. Occasionally her eyes would move towards the window as if offended. The rain was a villain, that much was obvious. But why today? He was certain he saw something very wet pool on the edge of her eyes and that's when he stepped forward.
"Katara," he said, kneeling down in front of her, taking her free hand, "What's wrong?"
He expected her to deny anything was wrong, but instead she blinked long and two tears, one for each eye, slipped out and left a shining trail down her dark skin. She leaned forward and set down her tea, allowing her other hand to fit into his.
"You don't remember it," she said, "But I always do. I see it in my dreams all the time."
Aang tilted his head in curiosity, but didn't dare open his big mouth as much as he wanted to. If he interrupted her now, she'd never tell him. For one of the few times in years, their roles reversed: Aang was the one begging to be let in while Katara mourned for something he could not see or understand.
"I know what it feels like to hold you lifeless in my arms," she whispered, "This day, five years ago this day, I still see it so clear in my head. And here we are, back in the place where it happened."
Her eyes were looking just passed his shoulder and he was sure she was imagining the starburst scar on his back where the lightning had stopped his heart.
So that was it. The memory Aang so often joked about now, that had once been his greatest failure, was torturing her. She never spoke of it though, not once, not ever. He assumed she'd moved beyond it all like everyone else had.
"You never talked about this before," he said.
"Why would I want to talk about it?"
"Because I'm the one it happened to."
That had been wrong and he knew it the second it left his mouth. He hadn't meant it that way. He wanted her confidence, he wanted her to see that he could be involved too. But the look on her face told him that was not what he'd said.
"I had to carry you," was all she said. "You were heavy."
It had not been said like a competition or a contest. It was fact, Aang had died and Katara had to deal with it. Death to Aang had been surreal, like sleeping. It was darkness and then he, just as before, was waking in Katara's arms again. And in the time before that Katara had faced all the sadness and despair the world had to offer.
"I remember it every day, especially today," she said.
Aang's greatest fear of that day had been the knowledge of his failure, again. Katara though, Katara had watched him die in front of her and he'd never once asked her about it. Even upon waking on that ship, he growled and kicked and yelled about all he had lost in that moment, not once did he ever consider what it had been like to be on the outside. And he realized, he had not been the only one who died.
How would he feel their roles reversed? Watching Katara die would send him over and edge he'd never return from, and she wouldn't even be there to save him.
"I'm sorry," he bowed his head.
She just nodded, the anger on her face was gone though. Her melancholy of before was gone as well, though her face did not smile. Aang gripped her hands a little tighter and pulled her forehead to his.
"I'm right here," he whispered against her skin, "You made sure of it."
The brush of her lashes over his told her she'd closed her eyes and he prayed she wasn't seeing it happen before. But that's when the rain outside turned to thunder and before he could say anything there was a flash of lightning and Katara winced reflexively.
"I get scared you know," Katara said, "When I don't hear from you for a long time. Something else might have happened to you."
"I worry the same you know," he said. "But we're both right here, right now."
And she opened her eyes again and looked at him, her blue eyes scanning his face, looking perhaps for signs it was all a dream and he was dead again. He allowed her to inspect him with her eyes, and eventually her fingertips. He did not feel the usual burn her hands left when trailing his skin, this was cool like water and he relished it with his eyes closed and she proved to herself he was real. And then she gave a small smile, allowing her open palm to rest on his cheek and he turned his head to kiss the inside.
"Come on," he said quickly, pulling her to her feet.
He pulled her, questioning and protesting, outside and right into the rain. She gave a yelp at the sudden cold sensation of heavy droplets coming down on her. She then gave a panicked look.
"Aang! It's dangerous, get back inside," she ordered, watching the sky for more signs of thunder and dangerous flashes it signified.
"It's not dangerous. Playing in the rain is fun!" he said, tossing some droplets he'd collected in his cupped hands at her.
She smiled, despite herself, and used Waterbending to return the favor threefold. And within miniutes they were soaked and muddy, laughing and teasing. They slipped around and crashed into each other and things as it became a competition to get the other as soaked as possible. They were those two young kids again in the South Pole before one was the Avatar and one was his teacher. They were, in this moment, Aang and Katara.
"I love you," she said, as if she'd simply called him an idiot or teased him again.
The way it caught Aang off guard made her smile brighter as she pulled him down to kiss her and he finally smiled against her lips, hugging her muddy clothes to his own and lifting her up kissing her closer, fingers curled into her thick hair, before setting her down again and reluctantly releasing her. He'd loved her at first sight yet had loved her for thousands of years before the moment he woke in her arms. He'd ran from the temple to find her, the iceberg only gave him up when it was her who came calling. And she loved him, she loved him. Her blue eyes told the story of how she waited all her life to meet him that day. They stared this way for awhile, eyes locked in a way that felt more intimate than two pairs of lips could ever be.
"I love you too."
And when they finally got to bed that night he hoped she had better memories of rainy days.