Fix You

Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA.

He sat alone on the white sands of the beach. The gentle tide lapped at his ankles, leaving a cool sensation in its wake. The last of the sun's rays were retreating behind the never ending and vast ocean on the horizon. As he looked up, the sky was clear. Not a blemishing cloud in sight. But he knew that if there had been one, they would have been red. He knew the lore. When the red sun set, blood had been spilt that day.

He stared at the disappearing sun once more, ignoring the pain that procured in his eyes. Lightning to the chest was nothing compared to the clenching he was experiencing. It was as if a komodo-rhino stampede had ran over his body, leaving the shell of what he had once been laying on the beach. It hurt. And he was tired.

A man needs his rest.

His good eye prickled. He knew that there wouldn't be any tears left to shed. He had dried up his stores already. But that didn't stop his eyes from thinking that they could release any of the pent up emotion he had been feeling. They were too dry now, aching for another douse of sentiment to relieve them of this pain. The pain he had been feeling everywhere since he got the news this morning.

Dead.

His eye prickled again. He wiped the back of his wrist against his cheeks, hoping to find some moisture and reassure himself that he actually was still alive enough to feel.

He was raised being told that emotions were weakness. In order to be an effective leader, one must disregard anything they felt except rage and hatred. One must be cold, calculating, and disconnected. It wasn't right to feel pain. Or to express sympathy. It was weak. And a leader cannot be weak.

Boy, did he feel weak right now. The entire spectrum of negative emotions were flowing through his body. Anger, anguish, depression, grief, hatred, heartbreak, pain, rage, suffering, and torment. Then back to anger again. His head and his heart were hurting from the surplus of changing emotions he was going through since sunrise.

When he breathed, it felt as if his body was shaking with the sobs he couldn't bring himself to let out. His throat was closed and raw from the screaming that made him lose his voice. His bottom was numb from sitting in the same spot all day, not taking his eyes off of the moving sea. Only once had someone come to check on him, but he didn't answer. He didn't have the energy, nor did he know how to respond.

If someone asks you if you're okay and clearly you're not, is it better to keep your mouth shut or lie through your teeth?

He knew she was only trying to help, but there was no way she could comfort him. This was a pain her healing waters couldn't patch back up. No matter how much she could try, this was something he'd have to do on his own.

He took another deep breath and watched as the last of the sky turned navy and the stars began freckling the darkness. He remembered admiring them so many years ago when he lived on the sea. They reminded him of how small he really was, and how insignificant his problems were compared to the ones all around him. Not that he knew then, but in retrospect he knew it to be true now.

A light padding behind him brought him back to his senses. He sniffed and waited for his visitor to speak. But nothing came. His stomach turned, knowing that they were staring at him, most likely in pity. Something he despised. Pity wasn't something he needed now. What he needed was silence and solitude.

"Zuko?" her voice was small, sorrowful. He didn't answer. He didn't even acknowledge her existence at the moment. He knew it would hurt her, but it wouldn't be anything compared to the hurt that he felt right now. He heard her approach him and sit on his left, staring out at the ocean with him. She remained quiet for a while, most likely trying to figure out something to say. Another thing he hated. A feeble attempt to fill a void that was best left alone.

"You know," she murmured softly, "the last thing he said to me was how proud of you he was."

Zuko scoffed. The first thing he really had done since he sprinted to the beach that morning. He had collapsed at the edge of the water and hadn't moved until midday, only to sit more comfortably on his bottom instead of his numbing knees.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered. He turned his slightly so he could look at her. Her brown hair billowed in the gentle sea breeze. The soft moonlight made her cerulean eyes glow. He could tell she had been crying as well, but her tears had obviously ceased hours ago. Her sympathetic smile was soft, and a little reassuring.

Zuko hated it. He turned his gaze back to the sea and sighed, "No you're not." His voice was hoarse and raspy, raw from his screams and sobs. If he had peripheral in his left eye, he would have seen her shake her head. But he didn't need to see it to know that's what she had done. Her hand reached towards the one that had been clutching his knees to his chest.

"Yes, I am. Despite what's happened, you're being so brave."

He shook his head, but didn't speak.

"Zuko, look at me."

He didn't move. He felt her hand let go of his and reach up to cup his chin. She turned his head slowly so he was facing her completely. Her eyes bored into his, relaying the truth behind her words. He tried his hardest to pull himself from her grasp, but his body was too weak. Too tired from the turmoil he was feeling.

You will not be able to master lightning until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.

He felt his lip quiver at the memory and his eye prickle again. Though he had mastered lightning years ago, he knew that if he had the strength to stand and attempted to shoot the electricity through his fingers, it would blow up in his face like it had during his first efforts.

"We're all here for you," she whispered, breaking him from his thoughts. "I'm here for you. I don't want you running away from your feelings like when we found your mother."

He couldn't forget that terrible day. After years of searching, they had found her. But she had already passed. Long before he had first started looking for her. Her grave was on top of a lonely hill under a plum tree. He had seen the grave and dropped to his knees. His body shook with sobs but tears never came. So he ran. He ran far away. He collapsed in the woods outside of the town she had been living in for all those years. When he was found, he was hypothermic and unresponsive. His inner flame had practically been snuffed out. He just didn't want to go on.

But she told him he had to. They all did. They didn't want their friend to die of a broken heart. It took a while, but he finally accepted the fact and took his first cleansing breath when she held him against her body, letting him cry endlessly into her shoulders.

He was a very weak Fire Lord that day.

And now as she stared at him, the same bright blue eyes piercing into his, he couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. She still cupped his chin, forcing him to stare at her.

"I can't lose you again, Zuko."

Her words were honest, heartfelt. Her admission had invited more tears to fall down his cheeks. He thought they had all dried up, but somehow his face was wet again with his pain. She lifted her free hand and wiped the tears away and bending them into the ocean.

"I know you want to just run away again," she whispered. "But we need you to be strong. You have a daughter up there that lost her grandpa, too."

His tears were streaming down his face. He had lost something he couldn't replace and it left him empty. An orphan in his own right. He didn't deserve this suffering, not after all he had experienced in his youth. And he felt old as he stared in her eyes.

"Can you be strong for me?"

He blinked and searched her eyes, trying to find the strength she spoke of. He didn't think he could do it, let alone stand and walk back up to the beach house. But something in her eyes told him he could. He had done it before, he can do it again.

He lifted his hands and took hers off of his face. He clasped them together and held them against his chest. He knew she could feel the sporadic beating of his heart. He knew she could feel the pain that clenched it, threatening to break it again. She smiled softly and leaned forward, moving her hands and pressing her lips against the bare skin of his chest.

"I know you can do it," she murmured as she straightened back up. Her smile warmed him slightly, reminding him that not all was lost. He felt the corner of his lips twitch slightly in attempt to smile in return. She stood and held her hands out to him. He looked up at her and hesitated, but then grasped them and stood as well. His legs wobbled momentarily, but he regained his composure quickly. She clasped his hand within hers and began leading him back up the hill.

"Katara…"

She stopped and turned around, smiling up at him.

"Thank you."

She closed the distance between them and stood up on her tippy toes. She pressed her lips against his and smiled wider as she stepped back, "Iroh would have wanted me to be here for you. That's what I'm for." She turned and continued to walk up, "Come on. The lanterns will guide us home."

He smiled and thought about something his uncle had said to him on multiple occasions. And he was reminded of it frequently as he watched the woman in front of him lead him back to his family.

You know, Prince Zuko, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday.