The end of the year, the end of this story. I just thought that was fitting. Thank you so much to everyone who read this - I appreciate every review, favorite, and follow (feel free to clog my inbox with them!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the affiliated characters. If I did, I would be the genius known as Bryke, so this would have aired on the show and would have been ten times better. I also do not own You've Got Mail, from where the inspiration for this story came.

Epilogue

Once she was sure that Azula's chains would hold the insane firebender, Katara raced to Zuko, her feet pounding almost as fast as her heart was. She gracelessly fell to the ground beside him, gently rolling him onto his back, and gasped.

The burn from the lightning bolt - the one he'd taken for her - was in the center of his chest, red and raw, claiming all the attention she could give. She silently begged him to stay with her, unable to get the words out, as if saying them aloud would make probable the possibility of him dying.

But he wasn't allowed to. She wouldn't let him, because it had been him the whole time, not the Blue Spirit, that she'd fallen for. Every intriguing feature about the Blue Spirit was something she could see in Zuko, and unlike her nighttime crusading partner, Zuko didn't wear a mask in front of her.

She was alive because he was here, on the ground, suffering inconceivable pain. As the water pooled over her hands, she saw him in her mind, taking the lightning bolt that was meant for her, then lying on the ground, his body racked by spasms of electricity. She briefly pictured a world without him, and choked on a sob as something contracted around her chest. But she didn't let that distract her; it only fueled her need for him to be painless. Her need to see him open his eyes and focus the gold irises on her. Her need for him to know how she felt.

Something else did manage to pull her attention, though. The water around her hands turned bright blue, and that glow illuminated the other injuries on rest of his exposed torso. Her eyes began to drift from one to the next, and her mouth parted into a stunned expression. These burns were smaller and older, and she'd seen them all before.

His body relaxed as her healing started to take effect. "Thank you, Katara." HIs voice was barely more than a whisper, but she heard it, even in her trance, and looked to him, her eyes wet with relief and wide with realization.

"It was you," she breathed. "You're the Blue Spirit." It was a statement, but he nodded anyway. Her shock turned to an unbelievable euphoria, until another thought occurred to her - but it didn't disappear entirely. "And you knew who I was?" Again, he nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

This time, he shrugged, but winced at the action. She helped him sit up. "I didn't want to disappoint you," he admitted.

"Disappoint me?" she repeated, confused as well as elated.

"When you found out it was me."

"You idiot," she laughed softly, her voice catching on the tears she knew were spilling onto her cheeks. He brought his thumb up to her face and wiped away the stream. She stayed his hand there with hers, leaning into his touch. "I wanted it to be you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said, but a beam spread across his face, showing her all she needed to know he was feeling.

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

He had one hand on the ground behind him to keep him up while he moved the other from her cheek to the back of her neck, and gently touched his lips to hers once.

Finally, with no mask in her way, she didn't need to imagine his as the face - it was. She cupped his cheek in her palm, touching her fingers to the smooth, glossy skin of the scar. His reflexes told him to stop her. But unlike with everyone else, he pushed away the involuntary response. He remembered the cool touch of her hand back in Ba Sing Se, and all the times he'd wished he could relive that moment and do it over again. This was better.

"What is it?" he asked as her eyes roamed the burnt skin inquisitively. He wasn't sure what she meant when she replied, "It's perfect," but he didn't press the subject as she kissed him again. She was right: the roofs of the surrounding buildings burning; his sister, in chains, screaming; chaos on all sides still raging - none of it mattered. For those few moments, nothing else mattered.

~Zutara~