Katara

is

Broken

"Aang?"

"Yeah?" Aang lay on his back idly fiddling with Zuko's hair. Zuko leant into his touch as he curled around the smaller boy, releasing a sound closely akin to a purr. Katara found the whole situation rather... awkward.

"Um, I was wondering if you wanted to practice with me. Since it's a full moon and all." Aang paused, his body still. Zuko unconsciously let out a small whimper of protest. He resumed his hand motions and the older boy once again settled comfortably under the blanket of sleep.

"Sorry Katara, but I'm kinda sleepy." Aang shot her a 'sleepy' smile that left her with no doubt that he was lying. "Maybe some other time?"

She gave up. "Yeah. OK." She trudged unhappily back to her side of the fire. Once upon a time, hers was on the same side as Aang's. Once upon a time, they'd been close. The war pulled them together, the end of it pulled the apart. No. Zuko pulled them apart.

At the Western Air Temple he was the only one Aang would talk to. Katara comforted herself with the thought that it was simply for training's sake, after all, she was the one Aang had kissed. But slowly, their scars drew the boys together. Their losses, their pasts. Uncle Iroh and Monk Gyatso were alike in their love for tea, pai sho and a more passive life. They were also alike in the way their charges had abandoned them. As much as Katara told Aang Gyatso did not blame him, it occurred to her that she didn't know whether she spoke the truth. She couldn't relate to him the way Zuko could.

Then, after Aang won over the Fire Lord, it wasn't her he ran to first, but him. To see if he was alright, to apologise for having to end his father. End. That was a horrible term, but Aang hadn't been able to bring himself to say kill.

Then Zuko had kissed him. Right there, in front of everyone. And Katara came crumbling down. On the outside she was happy for them. Her best friend was so utterly content she had to be. But on the inside, she was broken.