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Sokka kicks his ratted sneakers off, tossing his house keys on the table by the door. “Kat! Dad! Bato! I’m home!”
No response. It's not unusual, Katara’s usually holed up in her room doing Tui knows what. Dad's away at work until six-thirty, and it's only three. Bato is more likely than not in his office working on his latest novel, completely tuned out from the world.
He hangs his raincoat, dripping wet, on a rack in the mudroom just past the entryway, grimacing when water drips onto the tile floor. Bato’s going to ground him forever if someone slips and falls. It’d probably be Sokka anyway, with his bum leg and all.
“Anyone home?” Sokka calls down the empty hallway, turning the corner into the kitchen-
Nearly running into Suki, his past girlfriend and current best friend.
Sokka's unfazed. Suki’s at his house all the time. “Hey, Sukes,” he says, taking in her appearance. “Isn't that Katara's sweatshirt?”
Suki stares down at the blue, seashell-patterned hoodie she's wearing. “Oh. Um. Yes.”
“And you're wearing it because?”
“I was cold. And she let me borrow it.” Suki murmurs.
“Suki.”
“Mhm?”
“Is that the truth? All of it?”
“Sokka, I-”
“Are you dating my sister?” Sokka’s voice wavers, fingers curling in on themselves. “And you didn't tell me?” he adds, not bothering to wait for her response.
“Sokka. I can explain.” Suki begins hesitantly.
“Please do.” His nostrils flare, and he crossed his arms over his chest, trembling and planting his good leg into the ground in an attempt to not fall over.
“We’ve only been together for five months. Katara didn't want to tell you. She figured that with your accident-”
“This has nothing to do with my accident!” Sokka spits, bracing himself with an arm on the wall. “I wouldn't have cared, y’know.”
“I know, Sokka,” Suki says, gaze downcast.
“But you lied! You both hid it from me!”
“Sokka!” Katara emerges from the stairs leading to her bedroom, hair pulled up in a ponytail, eyes blazing, and dear La. She looks pissed.
But then she looks at Suki, and the furious expression on her face softens. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Suki. Got to talk to my brother for a minute.”
Sokka doesn't miss the poison in her voice when she mentions him.
“Okay,” Suki says, planting a kiss on Katara's flushed cheek. Sokka pretends to admire one of Bato’s favorite flea market paintings as she passes. “Goodbye, Katara. Bye, Sokka.”
“Bye,” the siblings chorus.
“Sokka, my room, now.” Katara says, storming back towards the staircase.
Sokka is smart enough to follow.
“You're dating my ex-girlfriend? Seriously, Katara?”
Katara shuts her bedroom door behind her, eyes narrowing at Sokka, who’s draped himself over her desk chair. “You dated for three weeks, Sokka.”
“She’s the one who got away, Kat,” Sokka laments, frowning lazily at her. “You took her from me!”
“You're best friends, Sokka!”
“That doesn't matter!”
Katara throws her hands up in the air. “Yes, it does!”
“Well, I don't care. You're still dating my ex.” Sokka says, and Katara glares at him, swiping lip gloss over her lips with a container she picks up from her dresser.
She caps the lid, examining her reflection in her full-length mirror. “That's great, idiot. But, as you are clearly not aware, you do not get to have an opinion on my relationship!”
“Why not?”
“Because you're not a part of it!” Katara heaves a deep, shaky breath. “Get out.”
“Katara-”
“Get out. I can't think with all the dumbass messing with my head.” She says sharply, turning away from the glass.
“I resent that.”
“Sokka,” Katara hisses, “Leave.”
Sokka pushes himself out of her chair, arms raised. “Okay. I’m going.”
“Good,” Katara says bitterly.
“Katara, I just want to say” - he’s interrupted by Katara shoving him towards the door - “that I’m sorry.”
“I don't care.”
Sokka reappears at Katara's bedroom door some time later.
A package of seal jerky is clutched in one hand, a cup of Katara’s favorite Earl Grey tea in the other. He knocks once, nudging the door open when he doesn't get an answer.
Katara’s at her desk, typing away, and Sokka knocks again.
“What are you doing here?” Katara snips, not looking up from her laptop, fingers dancing over the keyboard.
“I, uh, brought snacks,” Sokka says dumbly, hovering in the doorway.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Please, Kat. I’m trying to apologize,” he says.
“Then apologize.”
“Can I sit to apologize?”
“Fine,” she grants, and Sokka takes a seat at the edge of her (perfectly made) bed.
"I'm so sorry, Katara," he mutters. "And I brought you some seal jerky. And tea."
Katara glances up from her computer at that. "Earl Grey?"
"Yeah."
She extends out her arm, palm facing up. "Tea and jerky first. Afterwards, we can talk."
Sokka hands her the drink and jerky wordlessly.
Katara takes a long sip of the Earl Grey. Then she says, "I should have told you, Sokka."
"This isn't about me," he tells her, fidgeting with the chain wound around his left wrist.
"It's about the both of us." Katara drinks some more, sucking in a breath around the hot liquid.
"It's really not, K. I blew up at my best friend, because of my own immaturity. That has nothing to do with you."
"Sokka." Katara shuts her laptop with a resounding smack. "Stop internalizing your feelings."
"I'm not internalizing my feelings."
"Yes, you are," Katara insists.
"I am not," her brother says, running a hand through his let-down hair.
"Sokka, c'mon. You did this after the accident, too."
Sokka shoves his head into his hands, tears on the verge of cascading down his cheeks. "Stop comparing this to the accident! This has nothing to do with the accident."
"Sokka, please." Katara whispers, setting her mug on her desk. "You didn't do it, alright? You didn't cause the accident."
"But I did!" Sokka collapses into himself, shoulders hiccuping, sobs choking his words. "I did. I'm- I am the reason Teo will never- never ever get out of that wheelchair like he was supposed to, and it's my fault- it's my fault that Aang has that horrendous scar down his back and- it's because of me that Yue- Yue-"
"It wasn't because of you, Sokka-"
"IT'S MY FAULT SHE'S DEAD!" Sokka screams, six months of simmering anger and pain coming to a boil deep in his chest. "I should never have drove while it was raining."
Katara moves from her desk chair to the edge of her bed, her own salty tears rolling silently down her face. An arm comes up to wrap around Sokka's waist, and he flinches on instinct, and then leans into her touch. "Hey. Hey. The other driver ran a red light. They didn't have their headlights on. You were following the law, Sokka. They weren't."
"I know," Sokka whispers, his head dropping onto Katara's shoulder. "It just feels like- it feels like I caused it."
"You didn't," Katara soothes.
"Thanks, Kat." Sokka chuckles wetly, dragging a hand across his eyes. "So, you and Suki, huh?"
"Yeah." Katara grins down at her lap.
"How long have you liked her?"
"Since you broke up with her two years ago," she confesses. "I always hated Dad's holiday parties, but that night, she was wearing this beautiful dress, standing under the mistletoe."
"Did you kiss her?" Sokka asks, detaching himself from Katara and swiping the pack of jerky off of her desk.
Katara laughs. "Nope. Just on the cheek. I was a chicken."
"Believe me," Sokka says as he rejoins her on the bed, "No bigger chicken than me."
"Oh, really?" Katara snarks, elbowing him lightly in the side. "Any special people?"
"One."
"Want to talk about them?" She questions.
"Not really. I doubt he likes me, anyways."
"Okay."
They lapse into an easy silence, passing the seal jerky between them, until Sokka says, "Kat?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm happy for you."
"Thank you, Sokka. Good luck with the Mystery Guy."
"Thanks," Sokka takes some seal jerky, biting into the dried meat. "I'm gonna need it."