Chapter Text
The first time it happens is unintentional. Heck, she didn’t even realize it was happening until it had already happened.
She’s perched on top of Appa’s head, gripping the reins so tightly that her hands turn white. She doesn’t register the rain pouring down in thick sheets. She refuses to register anything, eyes looking straight ahead in a cold emotionless stare.
Then there’s warmth to her left, and a raspy voice, soft in spite of the raging storm around them.
“Katara, we should stop.”
“Zuko, I’m fine.” Her voice contains no malice, nor anger, but without any emotion embedded, it has a cold edge to it. She refuses to look at him, to see the concern she knows will lie in his golden eyes.
“Katara, we still have hours of flying left before we get there. Appa’s been flying practically non-stop for the past two days. We should at least let him regain his strength for the night.” The excuse is flimsy. She knows it. He knows it. But then she looks at his face, temporarily illuminated by a sharp burst of lightning, his soft eyes pleading with her, then turning down to his lap in defeat.
She faces forward again. “Fine.”
They stop on a small island, and nestle into a large cave. It’s now raining so hard that Appa’s fear of the underground has gone out the window in favor of the cave’s protection from the storm. Growling he steps into the cave. Katara is vaguely aware of Zuko jumping off of him and landing on the stone floor with a thud. She keeps looking forward.
“K-Katara? Are you okay?” I’d bet Sokka’s boomerang that his hand is on the back of his neck right now. She apparently knows his nervous ticks. He inhales deeply to try again. “How are you feeling?”
How is she feeling? Angry, she thinks for a moment, but that’s not right. She’s been angry for weeks, hell, she’s been angry for years. But she’s so, so tired of being angry, of carrying this rage simmering just below the surface for the past six years. It’s not gone per say; she still hates Yon Rha with every fiber of her being, even more so now that she’s seen the empty shell of a human being her mother’s murder is.
But it can no longer drive her. She spent the past two days finally letting it take the reins, and the destination wasn’t somewhere she could even really go. The remaining simmer of hate, the shard that will never truly leave tells her that it was out of weakness, that she should have done it.
That she disrespected her mother’s memory by not finishing the job.
“Katara?” She’s sitting sideways on Appa now, ready to jump or slide off at a moment’s notice, but still frozen in time.
The bulk of the anger is gone. But it feels less like a hole and more like an open wound, and without the fiery bandage, all she can do to keep her emotions from seeping out is to use her face as a shield.
“Shit, I-I’m so sorry Katara.” She glances down at Zuko, who’s pacing now, running his hand through his hair, pulling at it in self-loathing. Two days earlier, she would’ve fully endorsed his shame and self-deprecation, but it no longer feels right. “I don’t know how I could’ve thought this was a good idea, I just wanted you to forgive me, but I was selfish. Agni, I’m so stupid, why did I think this would help–“
Even with her insides a raging sea, she’s still Katara. She’s still the girl who takes it upon herself to look out for anyone and everyone around her. She’s still the girl who was ready to leave her tribe for a child she’d met a few days prior. She’s still the girl who offered to heal an old man whose nephew had been nothing but trouble for her.
She’s still the girl who reached out for a boy who chased her halfway around the world after he expressed a single insecurity.
And that girl cannot watch that same boy, who’s done nothing but try to help their cause and redeem himself in her eyes for the past few weeks, beat himself up over a years-old trauma of hers that he’s pinned to himself. That she pinned to him.
She makes eye contact, and begins to talk, tries to tell him that it’s not his fault, that the situation with her mother has never been his fault, and that it was unfair of her to blame him, but the droplet of empathy and guilt that she’s trying to breaks through her defenses and leaves them weaker.
And the dam breaks.
She chokes on a sob, leaning forward and half sliding, half falling off of Appa. As the ground nears, she doesn’t have it in her to care, but Zuko apparently does, and he catches her, letting her collapse into his arms. She doesn’t notice Appa curling up beside them. Her entire world consists of herself, her ugly, horrifying sobs (that, in any other circumstance would embarrass her), the arms around her with hands attached to them, rubbing soothing circles into her back, and the person whom she is leaning against, crying into, and gripping as though he might disappear at any moment.
She’s just so exhausted, both from the emotional stress of these past days, and the fact that she hasn’t slept at all since the night Zuko stayed up outside her tent. Now, they’re both laying on Appa’s tail, and she’s still shaking with sobs, wretchedly hiccupping air into her lungs through great gulps.
She feels Zuko tense up for a moment. Great, now I’ve pushed him away. Nice going Katara. Way to emote your way out of– whatever this is. Before she has the chance to process that thought, he’s squeezing her tighter, a silent encouragement to let it all out.
Somehow, this wordless message of support makes it all so much worse, because she hasn’t felt so truly supported since– well, it’s been awhile, and now she’s hyperventilating and spirits, Katara, you couldn’t just not mess up this one nice thing. This entire trip has been solely for your benefit, and now you’re making him hold you through a breakdown. You really are –
“Shhhh.” Zuko’s speaking softly, one hand is still rubbing circles on her back, the other is combing through the ends of her hair. Katara’s breathing begins to even out. “You’re safe here. You’re protected. Nothing bad is going to happen right now.” He’s practically whispering, and with the soft, repetitive motions, and the things he’s saying – the honest things he’s saying, because she’s not okay right now, and he doesn’t know if it will all be okay, but he makes the momentary truths of the present as soothing as an eternal promise – bring her breathing back under control. She’s not done crying, but he just keeps on comforting her, surrounding her ears with the soft rasps of his voice, and the pitter-patter of the rain outside, blocking out her greatest critic: herself.
The next thing she’s aware of is that the rain has stopped. Its consistent pattering has been replaced by the rhythm of air flowing past her hair, fluttering a few pieces just enough for her perception. She seems to be engulfed in a cocoon of warmth, making up for the total lack of blankets over her. She’d been sleeping on something soft and fluffy.
The decision to open her eyes brings her thought process back to life. She’s on Appa’s tail, explaining the fluffiness of her mattress, but that’s not really a shock. What does surprise her is the source of– well, it’s the source of all the other things she’d noticed. His arms softly around her (and hers softly around him), Zuko is asleep. Her first instinct, surprisingly enough, is not one of panic.
Yes, she’s sleeping next to a firebender, who, up until yesterday, she’d distrusted with every fiber of her being. Or so she told herself. But even the her from a week ago would have a hard time feeling threatened by the sight before her. Being this close to him is like sheltering in an igloo by the fire during one of the South Pole’s many blizzards. His breath has the same comforting repetition that the circles on her back had had, and, without all his stresses weighing on him, he just looks so peaceful. He looks free, even with the red mark permanently plastered on his face.
Once she finishes, um, noting the benefits of her situation, the panic does set in, but not for the reason past-Katara would have believed. Comforting her was one thing, one thing she very much appreciated, but very different from their current situation. He’d probably considered it part of his duty as the one who brought her on this trip. But sleeping in each other’s arms was not part the deal, no matter how you went about it. She begins to extricate herself, a blush rising to her cheeks at the sheer awkwardness, moving just a few inches away from his body, when he whimpers a little bit. She feels his arms tighten around her waist, their once-lose hold, now bringing her flush against his chest– how did he get so strong– and tangling their legs, ever so slightly.
She subconsciously snuggles into him, wrapping her arms around him once more. He leans his head into her hair, and lets out a sigh, a slight smile gracing his previously blank features. This is bound to be awkward, she realizes, but she knows from her previous attempt that leaving would only wake him up before she was fully away. There’s no reason not to wait until morning.
Besides, her almost asleep brain tells her, this is really nice.
Zuko grunts ever so quietly as he wakes. Being able to control your body heat and, in Uncle’s case, lukewarm tea, has its perks, but automatically waking up at the break of dawn, no matter what time you went to bed is just not one of them. Still, Zuko’s woken up more tired than this many times.
Actually, the last time he woke up this relaxed was... well, it wasn’t on his ship, and it wasn’t in the limbo between his mother leaving, and his banishment. It must’ve been... It’s been awhile to say the least. Perhaps it has to do with the weight across him, and the smell of rain flooding his senses.
His eyes snap open. It turns out that his best night of sleep will also be his last. Because Katara, the waterbender who threatened him back at the Western Air Temple, then did Agni knows what to the current leader of the Southern Raiders, will no doubt murder him when she discovers what has happened. She already doesn’t trust him, and it’s no secret to anyone that she’s a beautiful girl, and she might think he took advantage, and– agh!
He hopes she was okay with him comforting her last night. This entire trip had just been a disaster, and it had been selfish of him to try to get her to forgive him in such an exhausting, violent way, and that look on her face right before she fell into him just broke his heart. He’d needed to do something to make it up to her, to at least try to make the tragedy of a trip up to her, and... she would’ve pushed him away if he’d crossed a line, right?
He hopes so. He knows she may never trust him, but he hopes she knows that she could take him in a fight. If he’d managed to violate her in some way, he probably wouldn’t even fight back.
Still, he doesn’t want to be punished for something he didn’t do, or at least, hadn’t meant to do, so he pulls him arms off Katara’s waist– trying not to admire the look of bliss on her face and her hair sprawled beautifully in all directions– and slowly scooches a few inches away. He watches her frown. Then scoot closer to him, resuming her partial use of his chest as a pillow.
Okaayy, now it’s not entirely his fault, but he doesn’t want to be a source of embarrassment for her, and she might not believe him, and–
And Katara’s breathing has stilled (along with his own. Had he stopped breathing?). She snuggles into him, just for a moment, an involuntary action, and he watches her eyes open, her lashes parting like curtains to reveal an ocean view behind them. She blinks slowly once, then her eyes find his.
It’s not a bad sight for the last thing I’ll ever get to see.
To his utter shock, instead of murdering him on the spot, she gives him a small smile.
“Hi.” Her voice is low from sleep, and as she takes a moment to clear her throat, he’s fighting the urge to play with her hair, tucking the soft strands behind her ear. Instead he merely returns the smile, nerves of being viciously murdered replaced with another type of nerve.
He settles on wrapping his arms around her waist once more for a pseudo-hug, then pulls back for no reason other than to watch her groggily blink away her exhaustion.
“Good morning.”