Healed and Hunted
The Lies We Tell
Chapter Forty Three
The Battlefield
Kat
They had been in scrapes before, but never like this. No, never with gunfire and screams and the cries of children. The first week she does not sleep, cannot. The sounds echo in her brain and when she shuts her eyes, she can see everything. Children mangled and burnt, shrunken to the point where they no longer looked human.
She does not know why the images of the children haunt her more than those of the adults.
The fighting was the easy part. The goal was simple: stay alive. It was after all the fighting was over that Kat found herself floundering. There were so many people to help, so many crying and fading away at a moment's hesitation. So she didn't stop. On days like today, she was typically up and moving from four in the morning to midnight, pausing only briefly to eat and transport victims.
When Aang turned to her, he seemed surprised.
"Kat, you look terrible." He told her, not at all smiling or joking.
She sighed, "Yeah, well. What do you expect?"
Her hair was fraying, and some days she swore it was turning grey. But it was okay.
"Maybe you should-"
"I'm fine." She barked, interrupting him. He'd been trying to get her to move back from the front lines for almost a month now. But she was needed here. It felt good to be busy. Some days, she managed to give a sincere smile.
"I know you are. But-"
"But nothing. You wanted me here, and now I am."
They had been fighting nonstop her whole two months here. They argued about everything, from her staying in the front lines to who slept where. She didn't know why, but she was beginning to avoid him to keep the peace.
Toph had noticed the increase in hostility as well, but offered no explanation. So, Kat tried her best not to say anything combative around him, but it rarely worked that way.
"Why don't you go work at one of the hospitals?" He suggested, shrugging. It seemed he was tired of fighting as well. He rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, I'm not trying to get rid of you. I just want you to take care of yourself, too. Think about it, at least."
That night, as she struggled to sleep, she did think about it. At least in the hospitals, the sounds might finally calm down. Perhaps there, she would be able to find peace. It was funny, that she had left her peaceful home to come to a warzone in order to find clarity. Maybe the noise would save her.
The Hospital
Aang
He sits and talks for hours, never knowing if he's been heard. Today, he talks about Kat, and how he was trying so hard to wake her up. How, just for a moment, he'd wished he had told her the truth.
The man in the bed sleeps on, as he has for four months. Eighty percent of his body had been crushed by the cement walls of his camp, shattering his legs, fracturing his ribcage (puncturing his right lung and bruising the other), and splintering one of his arms. The damage was unreal. The doctors were keeping him in a medically induced coma while his lungs healed, a tube in his throat breathing for him.
They had shorn off all of the man's hair in order to get rid of the lice. Some of his color was returning, though his body had yet to begin to fill out again.
Aang sighed, reaching for the man's hand. He had hoped that the contact would comfort him, at least.
"Ava, your fiancé is here." A nurse told him, bringing Toph to his station.
The monk grew nervous every time Toph came here, his lie that much closer to being discovered. Thankfully-and he felt awful for thinking so-Toph was blind. Toph could not see his lie, quite literally laying in front of her face.
"How is he?" She asks, sitting in the chair next to him.
"They say they'll be able to wake him up soon."
Toph touched his hand, "You don't sound happy about it."
Because I've been lying through my teeth and you'll find out the moment he wakes up.
"I am. Just tired, is all." And that was true, he supposed. Not exactly the truth, but more than he'd been telling lately. Oh, god what was he going to do?
"I'm glad he's getting better." Toph said, breaking him from his inner turmoil.
He kissed her hand, grateful for her support. It would be one thing to tell her, but he knew she would not keep this from Kat. And that he could not allow. At least, not yet. Kat wasn't ready. His sister needed to find her heart again before he could justify telling her.
"You'll finally get to ask him his name. And I'll tell him you've been stalking him like a lovesick school girl." She teased.
"Ha, ha." He sighed, truly tired now. When the man woke, Aang sincerely doubted he would care who had been watching him while he slept. There would only be one thing on his mind. Aang just hoped he could save Kat in time.
Lu Ten's Grave
Mushi
He sang an old, tired song, broken with tears and straining through grief. Grief for his son, grief for his nephew, for his niece. For the sweet Katara. There was so much pain here, even after twenty years. His son had been much older than Lee. Lu Ten had been eighteen when Lee was eight. A soldier, already, and not much to remember for Lee.
Be home soon. I look forward to drinking tea with you again! Love you, father. Let's go visit mom, okay? He'd kept the postcard all this time, hidden away in his possessions. It was a picture of some desert where Lu Ten had been stationed, the place where his son had died.
Mushi was crying freely, feeling no shame in it. The incense burned, smoke wafting through his nostrils and about his hair. The wind brushed by, brushing his shoulder. Part of him felt that Lu Ten was still here, trying his best to comfort his aging father.
The stone read: Here lies Lu Ten, beloved son taken too soon.
And it had been too soon. No parent should have to outlive their child.
His phone buzzed, but he didn't answer it. Now was a time for the departed, not for the living. He was here to remember his son. His brave, precious son who had cried the first time he'd killed a spider. Where had that innocence gone? Brave, little soldier boy.
After an hour passed in silence, Mushi looked at his phone. It was a message from Aang, one he had been expecting for a few days now.
This is the address to the hospital where he's staying. I'll leave him to you, for now. He should be waking up by nightfall. Probably best if you're there.
There was a reason he was back in Russia. Mushi said his goodbyes to Lu Ten, promising to visit again when his nephew was able. He drove himself to the hospital, driving a bit faster than necessary. He wanted to be situated when Lee awoke.
Unknown
Lee
For a very long time, it feels like he is underwater. He hears voices every now and again, but try as he might, they remain distant and he cannot answer. He isn't afraid, though. He somehow knows he is safe. Pain starts to seep in before he can open his eyes.
When he does, light cuts into him, making him cringe. It smells clean, though, so he tries to be calm about it. Still, it is hard not to panic when your last memory is the din of gunfire and the feeling of being crushed by something heavy.
"Just take it easy." Someone told him in Russian.
He nodded, tired. Though he felt he had slept for ages, rest sounded like a good idea. He closed his eyes and was asleep in in seconds. When he woke, it was dark.
"Where am I?" He asked, hoping someone was there to answer.
A light switched on, and he tried to focus on the face. Old and bearded, but familiar. Uncle?
"You're safe, Lee." The old man said, voice cracking.
There was so much he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. He was so glad to see his uncle, and glad that the ordeal was over. Surely things were over.
"Azula is dead." He said, staring at the ceiling. His eyes watered, having to say it aloud. He hadn't spoken much after her death.
Mushi wiped away tears, "I know, Lee. I'm so sorry."
How could he have known? Lee was too tired to care. His gaze drifted to the window, where a full moon was beaming. That upset him, too. Still, he stared at it, wondering.
"What happened?" He asked, hoping his uncle's voice could keep him from being swallowed by grief.
"To your camp? The Ava came to liberate you. They saved as many as they could." Mushi said. It was clear he was glossing over some detail or another, but Lee didn't mind. He didn't want to know who was hurt and who was dead.
"I thought…I thought I saw Toph." Those last few seconds were blurry.
"You did. She pulled you out of the rubble." Uncle told him, adjusting in his seat.
"Oh." Was all Lee said. There wasn't much to say on the matter. She wasn't here to thank.
Then he remembered something all of a sudden. Kat. Lee jerked himself upright, causing far too much pain, but finding he didn't care.
"Where is she? I-"
"She…isn't here." Mushi told him.
That didn't make sense. If he was in the hospital, she would have come immediately. She had stayed by him, even before they loved one another. She would not abandon him now.
"Tell me where she is, then. I'll go to her."
Mushi shook his head, "No. She's too far, for now. Get better first."
"How far?" He wanted to know. How far could she have gone, if she had been waiting here for him?
The old man stared, seeming to search for the words. It took too long for Lee to be hopeful of the answer. Perhaps she wasn't here at all. Maybe she was…but, no. He couldn't think of where else she would be.
"We haven't seen each other for a year-"
"Almost a year and a half now. You've been asleep for four months, healing and-"
"A year and a half then. Why isn't she here?" He demanded, too distracted to realize what his uncle had said. A few seconds later, it dawned on him, "Four months?"
"Your lung was damaged, so they didn't want you up and irritating it. It was safer to let you sleep."
"Has she been here at all?" He didn't care about his injuries, anymore. He needed to see her, needed to hear her voice.
Mushi cleared his throat, "No. She hasn't."
The words shoot a numbness through him that medicine never could. It didn't make sense. Not here at all? That was… What could have kept her away? What could possibly…?
"She hasn't been well." Mushi continued.
His numbness was washed over by fear. Was she sick? Is that why she hadn't even been to see him? God, she was alright, wasn't she? He wanted to throw his feet over the side of the bed and keep moving, but knew his legs wouldn't hold him. He was still in traction, after all.
"We only heard from her a few months back. She disappeared from us for a year. Then one day, she reappeared. She is…" His uncle's voice faded off, and Lee's imagination tried to supply the rest. He saw her in worse shape than he was, having perhaps searched Russia for a year.
"Can I call her, at least?" He asked, hopeful.
Mushi shook his head, "I don't think that would be a good idea. When the Ava visits tomorrow morning, he'll explain. You should get some sleep, Lee. I'll be here when you wake up."
With a nod, Lee closed his eyes. He had to rest so he could reach Katara. He needed her, and if she couldn't come to him, he would go to her. Sleep consumed him, and he dreamed of his beautiful girl.
In Mushi's Car
Kat
"I'm glad to see you, Uncle." She told him, meaning it. It had been too long, and she had done him a disservice this past year. He must have been suffering too, probably more so than she had. She had the grace to be ashamed about it.
"And I you, my dear. Thank you for coming to visit with me." He told her, keeping his eyes on the road. He had aged a great deal in the past year.
They were headed to his wife's grave. As far as she knew, the woman had died giving birth to Mushi's son, Lu Ten. She didn't know much, because it had so obviously hurt Mushi to speak too much about it. Most of what she knew, she learned from Lee.
"Of course, Uncle. It's the least I can do." She told him, hoping that this was a start to mending things. Maybe he could forgive her, just a little bit, after today. It would be a good rest, too. A day away from the gore and horror of war.
When they arrive, she tried to hide her shock. The ground was scorched and blackened, and she didn't see any gravestones. When she voiced this opinion to Mushi, he acknowledged he had heard, but did not answer.
They walked for twenty minutes or so, until the ground began to turn green again. By the time she saw headstones, grass covered more ground than was burned. She placed the picnic basket down next to Mushi, who greeted his wife warmly.
"Hello, my love. I'm sorry I've been away so long." He rubbed away ages of dirt and dust. The name was in Russian, so Kat had no idea what it said.
The words tickled her heart. She'd never heard his voice like that. Warm, and full of love. He had spoken softly to Lee, of course, but not like this. This was the way soul mates spoke, after years of being together. Words truer and deeper than any observer would be able to understand.
He lit the incense with his finger, and placed it to the side.
Mushi was whispering to her in Russian, and Kat was trying to give them their privacy. She sat still for a few minutes, letting the sun warm her and the wind blow her hair. It was peaceful, though she could see such old battle scars. There were no trees- or anything, really- nearby.
"It's almost been forty years, you know, since my wife died." Mushi said suddenly.
Kat turned her head, "You must miss her terribly."
"When she died, I wanted to go with her. I didn't care about anything else. At first, I even resented my son for taking her away." His voice was so sad.
"I loved my wife more than anything. Without her, I didn't think I could survive." He told her, continuing to stare at the tombstone.
"But you had to, for your son." It was more of a question than statement.
He looked at her, "Lu Ten cried for days. When I had given up, though, he did something amazing. He laughed. The very sound of it startled me. But. When I went to him, he was so happy to see someone."
Mushi produced pictures of his son, from infancy to adulthood. Or, Kat supposed, the oldest Lu Ten had ever been. She knew he had died young. He was a handsome young man. She could see his resemblance to Lee. It hurt to look at, so she didn't stare too long.
"What happened here?" She wondered, staring at the wounds in the earth.
"I did." He said simply.
She blinked, confused.
"I was so angry that I lashed out and destroyed everything here. Burned it all. I sat in the ashes for two days, wishing to die. My brother and his wife came. My sister-in-law had been taking care of Lu Ten for a bit, but they hadn't heard anything from me so they were worried."
Kat tried to imagine it all. Heartbroken and empty were not words she would have ever applied to Mushi. He had seemed so content and calm that she had never imagined how terrible things must have been. Pain had made him wise, suffering had made him kind.
She blinked, not sure any what to say next.
Mushi continued for her, "This was her favorite spot. And I had destroyed it. I thought nothing would ever grow here again."
"It healed, eventually." Kat said, running her fingers through the soft grass. The growth was young, but strong and determined, the way nature tended to be.
Another few minutes passed before she asked, "Does it ever get any easier?"
"No, it doesn't."
"I don't know how to do this, Uncle. I don't know how to…"
"Have you given up on him?" The old man asked suddenly.
Kat couldn't meet his eyes. How could she say so, how could she form the words? It didn't make sense, to say them. The universe wasn't going to right itself, if she said them. Things weren't going to be better, but the words would make it real. So she wasn't going to say so.
"I don't know. I don't like to think about it." She said finally. It was the truth. If she thought for too long, it got difficult not to cry. And if she let herself cry, she might never be able to stop.
Mushi touched his wife's tombstone, "I was afraid to mourn. I thought that I would never stop, if I let myself start."
The two of them were having a hard time now, expressing themselves. Still, Mushi soldiered on, determined, it seemed, to get this out. He was going to break her, she realized. He was going to be the one to save her.
"Sometimes, Katara, you have to look at the pain and accept the damage that's been done. It's impossible to move on, if you haven't realized how behind you've fallen. And you're the only one who can do it."
"Oh. It's me." She said, finally understanding. It was her. She was going to save herself. And then, then she was going to save Lee, wherever he was.
She tried to fight it. The first crack in the ice is a tear. Her lip trembles and she tries to push the pain away. But his words ricochet through her like a bullet.
And, though it was a year too late, the words reach her. There was no echo, no far-awayness about them. She heard them, loud and clear. She took a breath, a real one, her first in nearly a year and a half, and used it to scream.
She yelled and shook, trembling and sobbing. Tears and heartache spilled onto her face, and Uncle wasn't surprised. He didn't try to touch her, and for that, she was grateful. Here, in the peaceful wake of Mushi's own pain, Kat could let herself feel everything.
And it was a lot to feel. It was a year and a half of loneliness and anger and fear and sadness. But the more she let them flood her system, the more breath she found herself able to draw. And breathing was a beautiful thing.
Her voice went out before she was finished, so she just put her head on the ground and cried. When she was exhausted, she laid her forehead down on Uncle's lap. He rubbed her hair, and sang some song she couldn't understand. He sang it until she was asleep.
She went to sleep fractured and jagged with grief and woke up much the same. But with the night came the sunrise, as with her grief came a smile. A frayed, unhappy smile, but something to greet the new dawn.
She stood around, waiting for Aang. He paused when he saw her, unsure of what had occurred. She knew her eyes were probably puffy from crying, face drained and terrible looking.
"I can't do this anymore, Aang." She ran to him, gripped his shirt and hugged him close. His arms were fast around her, warm and solid.
"I know, I know, Kat." He told her, talking into her hair.
They didn't stay like that long. In fact, she was certain it was under a minute. They had decided, there in that embrace, that she would move to the hospital and heal people there. Even if she was in no shape to fight, she could still help. And maybe, by allowing herself to mourn, she would begin to heal herself.
It was a lie, that she would be okay one day. But it was a lie she had to believe. For Lee's sake, and for her own. If she could carry on, she could let the ragged sorrow dull, and perhaps she would be able to think back on the past one day and not be blinded by the sadness. And that was a lie worth telling.