Once the bearded guard left, Zuko explained that Red was the one charged with making sure Katara stayed alive, as Zogen had put it. He was one of the guards who kept to themselves and didn't intentionally cause a stir among the inmates. While Katara still seemed unconvinced that he wouldn't take part in Sherik's twisted ways, she made an effort to trust Zuko in his conclusion that Red was one of the good guys.
But there ARE no good guys here, she reminded herself. Good guys are home. Sokka and Gran Gran and Yue and even Master Pakku are good guys. Fire Nation are the bad ones. She held on to the last thought for a bit before altering it to include Zuko. MOST Fire Nation are bad.
Zuko's movement dragged her from her thoughts. He made to grab one of the packets of food, but Katara placed a light hand on his arm, stopping him.
"I need to fix you first," she reminded him, shaking her head.
Zuko huffed at her wording, but pulled his hand back, regardless. He turned so that his back faced her, bending his knees so he could lay his head on them as she worked.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Katara once again dipped her hands into the water, letting her energy flow into it to produce the moon-like blue glow. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, laying one on each as lightly as possible. She made smooth circles with her gloved-hands, gradually widening them until her hands met at the vertebrae just below his neck. She then tossed the water and perused her work, determining it to be fully healed (with a bit of scaring).
The original contact on his shoulders pulled a shiver from Zuko's body. It didn't hurt, but didn't exactly feel good either. Instead it felt… invasive. Like some of his being was being replaced by something else. By HER, he realized. Once she started moving in circular patterns, he could feel the muscles in his upper back relax as the was lifted.
She continued to heal him piece by piece as she replaced the water enclosing her hands and ran them over his torn up flesh. With each pass of her hands, Katara had to put a little more effort into the chi of the water each time, but was pleased at the results. The scaring would be minimal, and his back would be completely healed from open wounds and infection.
Zuko found himself growing loser and loser each minute her hands worked on him. It felt like each time the cool water passed over a wound, the pain would be lifted up and float away in a cloud of evaporation, then be replaced by fresh, cool water droplets that would cling to his skin briefly before being sucked back into her hands. In addition to the surface repair, it seemed that she was also unwinding the knots that had built up in the muscle of his back from the years of stressful living in a prison.
As Katara finally reached the lowest part of his injured back, her bending began to falter. She was able to muster the strength to hold a thin layer against the few lacerations that remained, but only just. As she watched a layer of skin reform across the wounds, she felt the energy from herself faltering, therefore affecting the water's healing abilities. She had just enough left in her to scab over the last couple inches of the final cut before dropping her hands.
"Good- good as new," she panted.
Zuko lifted his head from his knees and turned at the jaded sound of her voice. At the sight of her pale, sweat-covered face, he opened his mouth to disapprove of her wearing herself out so much on account of him, but she beat him to it.
"I'm fine," she interrupted just as he opened his mouth. "I'll just need a few minutes to recharge."
Zuko nodded slowly, putting on his shirt and watching over her carefully even as he reached for the food Red had dropped off.
They ate in silence, unrolling the bundles between them to give access to both. There was more than enough for the two of them, but they both knew better than to waste food in this place, so picked at the last pieces until Zuko folded up the empty piece of fabric and set them by the bucket.
As Katara bent small orbs of water for her to drink, it occurred to Zuko that he hadn't said anything to her since they had argued over him taking the whip for her. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck until she finished her drink and noticed his uncomfortable movements.
"What is it?" she asked with a tilt of her head.
The movement caused some lose pieces of hair to fall to the side, hanging delicately off of her face. Her too-blue eyes were worried. They worried over him. Zuko couldn't take his gaze from her until she lifted her eyebrows, clearly expecting some sort of answer.
He swallowed dryly. "I, um," he scratched behind his ear and looked away. "Thank you."
Katara's gaze softened, a minuscule smile lifting the sides of her lips at his uneasiness.
"It was the least I could do. Since you didn't give me a choice about how much you'd be hurt…" she trailed off at the end, furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head in annoyance. "But you're welcome. And… thank you," she finished.
Zuko shrugged without meeting her eyes. "I still hurt you," he grumbled.
Katara was about to retort but was cut off as he continued.
"I know, I didn't have a choice and that it would have been worse if I didn't. But I still feel bad and it just shouldn't have happened," he finished.
Katara just nodded in understanding. She had almost forgotten about her cut arm, and chanced a peek at it. It had already dried, dark red flakes crusting on fabric and the hairs of her arm. She reached up with the other arm to shift some of the sleeve aside to give her a better view of the damage, the action drawing attention of Zuko's golden eyes.
He watched as she prodded at the sizable wound that ran from her elbow to nearly her underarm.
"Can't you just heal that like you did with me?" he asked.
"Maybe after I rest. Healing takes a lot out of the bender."
Zuko drew his mouth into a tight line.
Katara noticed his disapproval, and ensured, "It really doesn't hurt that much. Honestly. I've had worse cuts from an accidental run in with shards of ice while I was training at the North Pole. And I hadn't even learned how to heal yet."
Zuko shook his head, still wishing that she'd taken care of herself before him.
"You should at least wash it, if you have to wait until you have enough energy. And make sure your robe doesn't start to get stuck in it," he reasoned.
Katara sighed, knowing he was right but really wanted to just lie down now that the prospect of sleep had been raised.
Deciding that the most efficient way to get a better look at her arm was to remove her top, she carefully shook her good arm out from the sleeve. The second arm was a bit more difficult. Each time she even attempted to bend it at the shoulder to shimmy out from the sleeve, the wound tore a bit as the skin was stretched in different angles.
After her third or fourth attempt, she looked pleadingly at Zuko, who was watching but hadn't made an advance to help her with the task.
"Can you…?" she started.
Zuko nodded before standing up and reaching out a hand to Katara's good arm. When she looked confused, he gestured to where she was sitting, saying "you're sitting on the bottom of your robe."
Oh, she realized. Duh.
Grasping his hand, Katara couldn't help but admire the feeling of his hand in hers and the strength he possessed as he seamlessly lifted her into a standing position with little help from her legs.
She nearly fell over when his other hand fell to the hem of her robe, so warm that she could feel it where the fabric fell at her mid-thigh.
Keep your cool, Katara. This is no big deal. He's just undressing you, that's all. Actually undressing you with his hands and he's so warm and smells so good and you should probably say something before he notices how extremely awkward this situation is.
Releasing her hand, Zuko used his other hand to separate the severed fabric from the stickiness of her cut, holding it up and away from her arm as the reality of the situation struck him.
She wants you to take off her shirt. Of course, she did take yours off earlier. And it's not like you haven't seen her before. But this is different and she's right in front of you and as soon as I lift her shirt there's just going to be her and her perfect skin and-
He shook his head forcefully to clear his thoughts and (hopefully) get rid of the blush that had risen to his cheeks.
"You're gonna have to, erm, lift your arm up," he said.
Katara obliged, being careful to keep it as straight as possible until it was parallel to her body, pointing straight up into the air. Her other hand took over Zuko's and held the torn fabric away from her body as both of his hands grasped the bottom of her top.
Then he slowly began to lift his hands upwards.
Katara could feel every inch of skin that his hands touched heat up as he dragged the clothing up to breast bindings, then farther still. When his arms were above her head, her vision was blocked for a bit as the shirt was dragged over her face, but when she could see again, her eyes locked with his.
A moment later, her arms were freed from the clothing, but she made no move break their eye contact.
Zuko had to force himself to look away as he folded her dirty robe and set it aside. When he looked up again, he realized she was still staring at him with mindful eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance.
"Your arm…" he reminded her.
Katara mentally shook herself. Oh. Right.
She turned to look at her upper arm with a careful eye, taking note of the ugly opaque puss that had formed in some place. She would definitely have to clean it well to prevent infection until she could properly heal it.
Drawing a puddle of water into her hand, she carefully let it run over the strip of jagged flesh, applying more pressure to be sure that it was cleaned out. She even attempted to pull enough energy to make her hands glow, but she was truly wiped out at this point.
Zuko caught her frustrated huff as she tried to heal herself, and immediately felt bad that she had used up her energy on him.
She was just about finished with her pitiful attempt at sterilizing the wound when Zuko spoke up.
"Would it make sense to wrap it for the night?"
Katara chewed on the inside of her cheek as she inspected first her robe, and then his shirt for any part of cloth that would be clean enough to wrap her arm with.
She shook her head. "Wrapping it in a dirty bandage would only make it worse," she concluded.
When Zuko didn't respond, she looked up at him. And caught him just in time to see his gaze flitting over her chest.
She moved to fold her arms and cover her breasts as he quickly explained himself.
"Your, uh," he started awkwardly. "They're still clean. Enough. You could, um, use a piece to wrap your arm? It may be better than just letting it sit out and get dirty again…"
Katara looked down at the top of her sarashi. He did have a point. While there were a few tears and burn marks from a few days before, the majority of the cloth was still clean and white.
Undress in front of a guy I just met, or risk infection. She weighed the outcomes, deciding that she could make due with sacrificing a bit of the bindings. Besides. Sleeping would be difficult if the cut reopened every time I moved, her thoughts reasoned.
She raised her good arm and tucked her fingers underneath one of the folds, untying the knot with practiced movements. She peeked up at Zuko as she unwrapped one layer of thin cloth, and was surprised to see him looking away. The thought that he cared about her modesty made her chest warm up.
Once she had unwrapped enough to sufficiently cover her arm (and left enough to keep herself decently covered), she realized that she would have to cut it. The only way she thought of was to use an ice knife, but even then, the angle paired with her hurt arm would not allow her to saw at the cloth and hold the piece out away from her body.
She cleared her throat to gather Zuko's attention. "I uh," need your help undressing me again. "Can you hold this for a bit?" She held out the piece of fabric to him.
He hesitantly moved a bit closer to her, reaching out to hold the soft white cloth as she turned her eyes downward in discomfort.
Katara quickly formed a sharp ice blade with her now-free hand, wielding it to her unwrapped binding and cutting through it with ease.
As she worked to retie the bindings that remained, she could tell just how thin the wrappings had become. While there was enough to cover everything save for the tops of her breasts, the layers were thin enough that her pebbled nipples could almost be seen through the cloth. If it got any colder in her cell, they would be visibly attentive to anyone who looked at her.
Zuko had been straightening out the makeshift bandage, waiting for her to finish getting herself situated. He couldn't help but notice the shape of her breasts though the fabric, and the soft cocoa color of the mounds as they poked out over the top of the bindings. When she had finished, he reached out to drape one end of the fabric over her hurt arm.
While she probably could have handled wrapping her arm herself, Katara didn't protest as the boy gently encased her wound in the white fabric. Every few passes, his fingers would run against her skin, drawing goosebumps wherever he made contact with her.
He carefully tucked the end of the wrap into a fold before settling back to observe his work. When he was satisfied that it would hold and protect the cut overnight, he stood up.
"I should probably get back to my bunk. It has to be long past lights out," he said.
Katara nodded, standing up as he bent to pick up the bucket and scraps of cloth the food was wrapped in.
She watched as he knocked on the door, awaiting the loud creak it always made as it opened.
But no one came to open it.
Zuko knocked again, and then a third time. No answer.
"It must be later than I thought," he grumbled, setting down the pail against the wall.
He turned back to look at her. "I guess I'm staying here tonight."
Katara nodded once, playing with a piece of her hair as she glanced over to the single dingy mattress on the ground.
Zuko seemed to catch this, saying, "Sleeping on the ground won't kill me for one night," he said lightheartedly.
Katara tugged on the piece of hair in her fingers, biting her lip in consideration.
Just as Zuko was moving to lay down, she stopped him.
"There's enough room for both of us," she said quietly.
Zuko looked up, surprised. "Katara…" he started.
"It's the least I can do after what you've done for me today."
"You already healed me and- "
"Zuko," she said firmly. "You're not sleeping on the ground."
He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the finality in her words. Deciding he was too tired to argue, he made his way over to where she had sat down, taking his own seat on the other side of the mattress.
Katara had taken her robe and opened it to use as a blanket. As she snuggled into the familiar fabric, she felt Zuko turn to his side next to her, the movement causing the mattress to dip down a bit, pulling her towards the center of it. Towards Zuko, she realized.
"Goodnight," she whispered. His only answer was a tired sigh.
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