Weak, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

Yes, I know that I told people that I wouldn't write anymore Kataang until the new season premiers, but I've had this story's idea in my head for a while now. Then I listened to JoJo's song "Weak", and the entire story just flowed throughout my mind. If you haven't heard that song already I suggest you head on over to YouTube or LiveVideo and listen. You'll like it, even you anti-pop people out there. Actually, it's more like contemporary soul with a pop element to it, but that's beside the point.

This story is AU as many of my fanfics seem to be these days, but I'm positive you'll enjoy it. It's really sweet and touching if I do say so myself.

I don't own Avvie. Please don't brag if you do. Also, don't hurt me because Aang wings it left (I figured he would), that this is somewhat of a songfic, and that my music industry knowledge is severely lacking. I try my best.

I sincerely apologize for whatever OOCness the characters possess. I shall remind you that this is AU and I'm doing my best to keep it as parallel to the original universe as possible, but some things are out of my reach to put in line.

And let it be known that I in no way support Sukka. I support Sokkla. Sukka just happens to be canon and therefore the chick has made her way into my story. Joy.

"It is better to lose your pride with someone you love than to lose that someone you love with your useless pride."

Author Unknown

They knew each other before the two of them became famous. They were together in the same kindergarten class; his adoptive father had somehow gotten him into the class when he was only three for whatever reason, and luckily for him he'd flourished, so the school allowed him to stay. She had been a newly-turned five-year-old, all smiles and bright blue eyes and glowing caramel skin, overflowing with pure innocence and childlike wonder. He'd been of the more energetic and exploring lot, preferring to spend his time causing playful ruckus on the playground rather than surrounding himself with only a few close friends, as she did. Somehow, though, as they were finger painting and he asked her if he could use her yellow paint, she was immediately attracted to his sunny aura in only a way a five-year-old girl could be around a little boy two years her junior.

From then on, not even nap time could separate the two, and they earned a stern talking to once from their teachers when they kissed each other in the schoolyard one morning in the first grade. It was chaste, though, just like the Superman Valentine's Day card he gave her one frosty February 14th in the second grade, while he gave their other classmates the ordinary Mickey Mouse ones. Third grade brought the neighborhood girls teasing her for hanging out with someone with cooties, the fourth grade meant being separated in class because they were divided by sex (which meant they spent the entirety of their recess and lunch by each other's sides), and in the fifth grade he brought her roses when she sang the lead in their class musical.

By the time they reached middle school in the sixth grade, she was eleven and had hit puberty, and avoided him more than usual. He didn't quite understand why, but he knew that she was especially cranky around the middle of the month and that other guys vied for her attention. She waved them all away, though, and still spent good time with him at the mall and at the arcade, although she also hung out with other girls more and more often. He took it all in stride, though, and decided to join the school's many activists clubs and became class president. Seventh grade brought them working together in the school's fall musical- her in the lead and him as the co-director- after a summer away from each other with him touring Europe with his father and her in the Caribbean with her brother Sokka and grandmother.

When they got to high school her music career skyrocketed among the dusty halls and he became heavily involved with world issues, and the only time they saw each other was at home. Still, when she got her first boyfriend (some hoodrat named Jet from across town) in the ninth grade, it struck a jealous chord inside of him he never knew existed (and neither did he realize what it was until her annoying brother called him out on it). When he had come home angry with her for not talking to him except for a quick message on IM, his father had decided that it was the day to talk to him about growing up and what it meant. He had come out of that room with a new respect and fear of the female population and couldn't look her straight in the eye for a week.

When he met a blind girl called Toph their sophomore year, the tides had turned and she had been the one to become envious, even though Jet was still by her side. Though she had become somewhat of a celebrity around school and barely waved at him in the hallways, he still felt something strong towards her and she wanted to rekindle their friendship. They succeeded and the four of them (she, him, Toph, and Sokka) became the oddball group in school.

The two graduated from high school with her getting a record contract with Hollywood Records and him interning for some big-shot Democrat in the Senate who had been recently entered in the 2008 presidential election, and the two had gone their different ways. He still saw her on TV a year or so later and she still gave him a call every week, but for the long run they were living two different lives. However, one day she called him in tears because her manager had run off with her money to live in Fiji, while her publicist had bailed out on her to go pursue a career in acting, and Star and UsWeekly weren't making her day any easier with their admittedly accurate articles of her musical empire crumbling. She had asked him to perform double duty as both her publicist and manager. He had willingly accepted, since his own political path on hold. Thus, the two had been reunited.

The press had a field day on that.

-ø-

Aang stood there in the doorway, smiling at the look of her hard at work practicing for her latest concert. She was on her second world tour and the two were currently in New York City, seven hours away from performing before their largest group at her concerts yet. The tall brunette beauty was clad in her usual rehearsal uniform of leggings, a belly shirt, and heels, with her abundant hair pulled back into a high ponytail and large hoop earrings swinging wildly every which way. Her choreographer was working with her and four other young girls, putting the last few touches on the finale number.

"Take fifteen," she breathed breathlessly to the five other women in the room, finally noticing his presence in the mirror before her. They smiled gratefully and hightailed it fairly quickly out, no doubt planning to crash on a couch to reenergize. She gave him a quick light hug, her high heels clacking across the dance floor. He smiled and kissed her forehead, but she gently pushed him away and shrugged. He turned his head from her, turning red from embarrassment, wondering why she never seemed to be distant when they were alone. The best excuse she ever offered him was that she didn't want the world to know, as she may get heavily criticized. However, he criticized that because he knew that she was a tough one and could handle virtually anything. Still, not wanting it to blow up in his face, he had accepted it graciously and pretended that it didn't bother him.

"So how's your day going so far?" Aang asked her, lying on his stomach facing her. Katara smiled sleepily. "I'm sooo tired, Aang; you don't even know, and this is only the beginning. I might go insane before even half of this tour is over and done with."

"Aww…you say that every time. You do fine every single time. Don't stress yourself out so much." The 22-year-old smiled at his friend, who was cross-legged and leaning back on her hands. She giggled quietly and lounged on her side.

"Thanks, Aang. What are our plans for tonight?"

"Well, you are going to be onstage. I'm going to be out with your brother."

"Where are you two going?" she asked, unhappiness creeping into her voice as she thought the two weren't going to be with her for her opening show.

"I forget…some new club a few blocks from here." He glanced at her downfall expression, and shaking his head, took her hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry though, Katara. You know we'll be here for at least two of your songs."

"Oh."

He chuckled, "Don't sound so happy about this new tour; I mean, it's only been on your mind for the past two years."

She punched him in the arm. "I am happy. I just need to rest."

He stood up and helped her to her feet. The blue-eyed woman nearly tripped over from the sudden pull, the only things stopping her fall being the firm, warm hands on her waist.

"Hey," he whispered, his bright face dangerously close to hers. "Don't fall and hurt yourself. Then I'd have to keep you all to myself for the next few nights taking care of you, and we both know how awful that is."

Katara sucked in her breath and did her best to hide a smile as she pushed him away yet again. "No, Aang."

"Why not?"

"Because people might be around."

He sighed. "But this happens even when we're alone."

Katara stayed silent. "Please don't start this again, alright? It's not worth it."

Fighting back the urge to say something besides, he pulled himself away completely. "Okay then… I'll see you later." He gave her a hug. "I still love you, even when you're so difficult," he whispered into her ear. A shiver raced down her spine as the jeans-clad man left her standing alone in the dance room. She felt vulnerable and suddenly butt naked in her skimpy outfit, and pulled the cloth band that held her long hair up to allow it cascade down her shoulders. The heavy blanket of waves around her upper body gave her the feeling of security as she wished that Aang didn't make her feel that way.

It wasn't as if they weren't together, because they were, but Katara still preferred to keep it on the DL, if that was possible. Yes, she realized that at times it got very trying for the both of them, especially when their relationship was going smooth and she pushed him out of the equation to save face (after all, a politician and a singer? Aang and Katara? Say what?!), but she didn't need to spoil her good name with someone like him.

It'd ruin my image, she figured. Politicians are sneaky, unfaithful, and vicious, even if Aang himself isn't at all. I can't do that to myself.

Sure, it gave her hell to think of all the many ways she has hurt him just by denying their relationship, a process 19 years in the making. Katara wasn't one to let her vanity get in the way of such a thing, but lately she felt with building guilt that it, in fact, was, and she was only making it worse by pushing him away more and more. Aang was sensitive, she knew, but could also take a hit from her, yet she knew from more than one experience where he had went over the edge from too much wear and tear on his patience, a virtue Katara took for granted too much for her own liking.

They were too close, had too much to lose, and loved each other too much for her to destroy it. Yet, it's not stopping her at all to do just that, whether she could control it or not. Katara slumped against the mirror and ran a hand throughout her hair, closing her eyes and muttering incoherent thoughts.

"They say that the mind is the first to go," a familiar, teasing voice said. The singer opened her eyes and grinned at her older brother, who had Suki on one arm and a bag of groceries in another. She hugged Suki and gave her brother a kiss on his cheek before reaching for the bag.

"Is this for me?" she asked, though the question didn't stop her from digging through the bag besides. Setting the bag on the floor and pulling out a bottle of Vitamin Water, she glanced at the couple. They stared back amusingly.

"So how's it going you two? Anything great planned for tonight?"

"Now Katara, let's think for a moment. Would I tell you if we did? And wouldn't the answer be obvious?"

Suki punched him in the arm playfully and Katara grimaced. "You sick child- you know I didn't mean it like that!"

Sokka grinned mischievously, "Mmhmm…you are one to talk. Don't think I don't know about your late nights with Aang."

Katara's eyes went wide. "Nothing happens, I swear! We just talk! Nothing more."

Sokka shook his head knowingly. "You're 24, Katara. I honestly don't care; I'm just messing with you. Calm down."

His sister only glared.

"Unless, of course, the only reason why you're falling out is because something is going on," Sokka reasoned, eyeing her up and down.

"Shut up," Katara ordered, finishing off the drink. He shook his head and whispered something to Suki before leaving the room. The other brown-haired girl smiled back, her green eyes sparkling.

"He means well," she told her, brushing a few loose tendril from her face. "Don't mind him."

"I don't," she replied, giggling. "He's been teasing me and Aang since I brought him home for cookies in kindergarten. Ever since then, it's been an uphill battle from there, especially that time when we kissed in the schoolyard." She sighed and a distant look appeared in her gaze, a wistful smile spreading across her face as she recalled the memory. Suki watched intensely.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"What? Oh." She blushed crimson. "I do." Her last word left a lingering ending, as if she wasn't quite done with speaking but didn't know how to express it.

"Buuut…" Suki pushed.

"I dunno, it just seems like I can't really be seen with him in public. I push him away, though it must be as obvious as the sun on a clear day, and lately even sometimes when we're together away from eyes."

"Why?" Suki asked. She was like a sister to Katara, for which the singer was grateful. Toph had gone who-knows-where and barely came around, but Suki had married Sokka seven months ago and stayed by default. The question didn't put her off in the least bit, though it did make her think.

"I can't understand it. It's like I don't want to care about who he is- you know, with the whole world ambassador slash politician thing going on, it's not exactly what I can be seen with- but I do. And it sucks because I really do like him. I love him, but it's…hard."

Suki nodded, her eyes looking down to the floor. "Katara, you can't go by appearances sometimes. If I had judged Sokka fully on his sexist attitude, I might not be happily married as I am today. Don't let stupid things like a career get in the way of what your heart is telling you. You'll regret it in the end."

Katara bit her lip and glanced at the floor.

"Aang absolutely adores you. Anybody can tell. You are crazy about him. That much is obvious. So go for it."

"Of course."

"There really isn't any other way.

Katara sighed, "I know."

The two stood in silence for a moment. "I'm going to go see what my husband is up to. I'll see you later." Suki blew her a kiss and promptly left her alone in the room. Sighing, she welcomed her choreographer and dancers back into the room.

"One last rehearsal, you all- make this work!" she cried as the choreographer pressed play on the ancient CD player. As the first notes filled the air, the full melody of heavy breathing and taps of high heels were heard.

-ø-

From backstage, Aang watched Katara perform the last two minutes of her performance. He had come just in time to watch her saunter onstage in her finale number, gorgeously clothed in a pair of modest jeans tucked into stiletto boots, paired off with a blue cropped turtleneck. Her stick-straight hair shook golden glitter over the captivated audience as her powerful voice effortlessly pulled out the last notes. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, teeny-boppers and 30-somethings alike cheering her on. She pranced back and forth, soaking up the deserved adoration. He smiled widely, praising her from backstage.

She stopped in the very middle of the stage and bowed once more with her dancers in front of the crowd before making her way off of it. She came in beside him, drenched with sweat and her sparkling hair plastered to her smiling face.

"You were amazing," he whispered, kissing her soflty on her lips. Paparazzi cameras flashed from all angles, catching the kiss Aang gave her, but neither paid any attention. Katara was giddy with excitement and was on a high she wouldn't come down off for another day or two. Her opening show had gone abundantly well; her wishes came true ten times over.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, hugging him. She turned and waved to the photographers, blowing a kiss. Aang laughed and stood back as she threw answers about to the various questions shot at her, watching as she was whisked away to a dressing room to change. Fifteen minutes later, she was out into the open again wearing a slinky black dress and a fresh face. He took this moment to grab her away for a moment.

"I'm going, alright?" He kissed her cheek. "I'll be in my room tonight. Call me if you need me." One last hug brought them away from each other as he left her alone. She smiled at his retreating figure before turning back to her many admirers.

-ø-

"I brought you coffee, aspirin, and the newspaper," the young activist whispered, sitting on the bed next to his girlfriend and setting the tray full of said items on the bed next to hers. She grumbled and snuggled deeper into the thick blanket covering her, the frizzy tendrils of her hair being the only part of her visible. He sighed and looked around the room, eyeing the near-empty champagne bottle on the table across the room.

"Katara…"

"Mmm?"

"…why were you drinking so much?"

"I dunno," she mumbled from beneath the comforter. Blue eyes peered out, gazing at him sleepily. "I needed it."

He snorted disbelievingly and picked up the bottle of aspirin, shaking two tablets out. "It's the dissolving kind, so I'm putting them into your coffee," he told her before dropping it into the steaming mug of dark liquid. She sat up finally and took the drink from him, rubbing her eyes and pushing tangled hair away from her face. They sat in silence for a few moments- him reading the world news and she gazing out the window.

Aang's face became scrunched as he read the news, rubbing a hand over his temple.

"Baghdad bombed…Korea experiments with nuclear technology…Darfur conflict worsens…" he sighed. "Nothing ever seems right these days, huh?"

Katara raised her eyebrows and frowned, quietly singing the lyrics to Red Jumpsuit's Face Down. "Don't talk like that. You know that you're always able to do something," she reminded him, downing the last bit of coffee. He bit his lip as he poured her another mug.

"Thank you," she muttered. He smiled down at her, taking in the ruffled mess that was her.

"I look a mess, don't I?"

"Very much so," he chuckled. "You're still beautiful, though. I'm going downstairs to the gym. I'll see you in a little while."

She waved him goodbye, turning to the newspaper he had left beside her. Picking it up, she flipped the pages to the entertainment section to read the reviews on her opening show. Smiles lit her face as she read one compliment after another and made mental notes to think about the criticism. The next page made her jaw drop as she read and reread the headline and story.

"No…no…NO!" she screamed, staring at the black ink in disbelief. The newsprint blatantly glared back at her, as ugly as the cheap polyester suits at WalMart:

KISSES FROM THE DARK

Secret romance between superstar Katara and the infamous activist Aang comes into the light.

Underneath the headline was a blown-up photo of her and Aang in a liplock, taken by one of the many paparazzi present. Katara screamed loudly, loudly enough to have her two bodyguards burst into the room. Her eyes filled with panic as she shoved the paper into their faces. To her furious dismay, they laughed daringly at her.

"I always knew you two had the hots for each other. It's about time you two went public," one said. She clenched her jaw and pushed past him, disappearing into the bathroom. She emerged fully washed and dressed, grabbing the paper before slamming the door behind her as she left.

"WHAT IS THIS?" she yelled at Aang as soon as she reached the gym. He glanced wide-eyed at her, took one look at the paper she was thrusting in his face, and faced forward. She stomped her foot, red-faced from frustration and anger. "Tell me! Tell me or I swear I'll scream! And then, I'll have to hurt you." Dozens of pairs of eyes turned to face her from shock. Here was the great Katara, the epitome of poise and grace, exploding as if she had dropped on Hiroshima.

"Katara, let's go and talk this out. Just please calm down," Aang pleaded, jumping off the treadmill and shielding her away from the nosy glances of the commoners. She allowed him to do this, the embarrassment from her outburst finally catching up to her. Glaring at him, she followed him out of the whisper-filled room. They made their way up the elevator, both fuming and neither looking at the other, without uttering a single word. No sooner had Aang locked the bedroom door did she once again begin to scream at him.

"Aang! You know how I feel about the two of us being intimate in public! Why would you pull such a stunt?"

"Katara, I-"

She shot him a look that burned his cheeks with undeserved shame. "Plus, you have the utmost nerve to not even apologize for what you did! You're just sitting there looking away from me, without any concern whatsoever. You act as if you planned this, like you need fame or publicity or-"

"Don't," he warned, standing up. His voice was low, steady, and deep, and it sent shivers through her as she took a step back. "Even go there. That is a lie and you know it. I have enough of my own fame, thank you. I don't need your help. That kiss," he said, pointing to the crumpled stack in her hands, "Was a sign of affection."

"In the wrong place at definitely the wrong time," she coldly replied. He stood there, his hands hanging limply at his side, staring disbelievingly at her figure. She shifted from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events. If she weren't careful, the truth- the raw truth- would escape her, and she didn't want that.

Not yet.

"Why are you so ashamed of us, Katara?" he asked her somberly. She sat down next to him and took his hand, which he slowly pulled away and set in his lap.

"I'm not ashamed of us, Aang. It's just that…our relationship wouldn't be well accepted." She hesitated. "Yeah…" she finished, almost to herself.

"No. I don't want some watered-down version of what you really mean. I know you much better than that. Katar, I want the truth."

She turned away, head down. "I don't think you want that."

He gazed at her, realization dawning in his gray eyes. "Are you ashamed of me?"

She said nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," he replied, his tone dripping with hurt.

"It's just that…you're a politician. I'm a singer."

"So?"

"So it's not good for my image."

His brows knitted together. "Your image?" he sputtered. "You're mad at me because you think I've ruined your image? Katara, that's completely unfair!"

"Aang, please don't be mad-"

"How can I not be? You're being totally selfish and vain and prideful!" He spit out the last two syllables as if they were venom. She flinched visibly, his words beating relentlessly against her heart. She weathered the storm, because she knew that it was exactly the kind of karma she had put out. "I've never known you to be like this, Katara."

"Just let me explain."

"No, I think you've said enough perfectly well." He stood up and shook his head sadly, shuffling over to the door. "I guess this is your way of telling me that we're not right for each other. You get your third wish granted, then. Your fairy godmother must really love you. Bye." He left her in his wake, going to some random isolated location where she had no hope in finding him.

"I've really screwed up this time. Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

-ø-

He sat at the bar, his gray eyes fixed upon the marble countertop and his hands absently clutching the still-full glass of wine in his other hand. The argument had left him numb- no thought or action had any affect on him whatsoever, which resulted in Sokka asking him if he had lost his mind.

"That and something much more valuable," he had replied, leaving the scientist confused and slightly annoyed with his riddle.

Now he was sitting alone at midnight at an empty bar, lost in his thoughts and wondering what kind of relationship he had with Katara. Or rather, he thought, if I have one at all anymore.

The television set above him blared about the breakup continuously, no doubt leaked from the gold-digging hotel guests that had witnessed it. Aang cradled his head in his hands. "My goodness, where did we go wrong? Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness. How could I stay up with you all night? That I know how to save a life…" The Fray's song flowed through his head, terrorizing him endlessly with images of their life together. He blinked back tears, vowing not to cry even if it killed him. Still, the feel of her lips against his struck through his body, reminding him that he was too far gone in her tangled web to leave fully.

I can always try.

"I need you, and you need me. This is so plain to see. And I will never let you go and I will always love you…" a familiar voice sang nearby, gaining strength and clarity as it came nearer. She clenched his hand around the glass he was holding, determined not to mutter the rest of that verse. She sang Keyshia Cole's song well and it was one of his favorites (their favorites), but he would not give in or give her the satisfaction of finishing it off for her.

It'd only make her think that I want to start over.

Well you do, a voice replied. He decided it was best that he didn't answer. The scent of vanilla and wildflowers drifted past him as Katara sat down, still dressed in her black number.

"Aang, we need to talk. Calmly. Please?"

He glanced at her sideways and sighed, "I've forgiven you, Katara, if that's what you're looking for, but you've already made it pretty clear what you want. Or don't want."

He caught her brushing a tear away and melted inside, despite himself. She was earnest, but he…he just couldn't. I don't want to let myself be shoved away if it means keeping her slate "clean"…

"Aang, I'm sorry. I was wrong and treated you badly, but please don't not talk to me. Say something," she pleaded, touching his cheek.

He placed his hand over hers, rubbing it with his thumb. "I love you too much, Katara. I need to think, need to get my mind and heart straight." He kissed her softly on her lips. "It hurts too much to be around you now, though. Give me space, alright? Don't call me, don't email me, don't ask Sokka about me. I'll come back when I'm ready. Maybe we'll just talk and argue it out and pick up where we left off, maybe we'll have to put some distance between us. I'll be back." He kissed her forehead, handing her his handkerchief to wipe her eyes. She dabbed, leaving streaks of mascara on her eyes. "Don't worry about me. Take care of yourself."

He slid the bartender a twenty dollar bill. "I'll see you later," he said, leaving her behind.

"Bye," she whispered, wondering why she didn't take Suki's advice to heart when she still had the chance.

-ø-

"…Katara, look over here!"

"…Katara, is it true…"

"…That you dated the politician Aang?"

"…Katara, are any of your songs dedicated to him?"

"…Katara, is it true that you broke it off?"

"…Why so soon, Katara?"

The red carpet leading the way inside to the charity banquet was a nightmare; the flashes that blinded her and the black stilettos that gave her blisters were of no importance to her. It was the fact that she needed to maintain a smile and field the nosy reporter's questions at the same time. She knew full well that every word she said, every move she made, every facial expression was going to be written about in ever gossip rag across the country, and she couldn't afford to blow it with one wrong step.

There you go again, she thought bitterly, the words searing like wildfire through her mind. Always putting yourself first. None of these people will matter tomorrow, and you're still only worried about what they may think. She blinked back tears, her smile never faltering. As Star Jones Reynolds shoved a microphone and a camera in her face, she even managed to laugh, a laugh so fake it even made her cringe.

How's that for worrying? Good job, Katara. Good job.

The night wasn't even halfway over, and Katara was already ready to go home and cry over a pint of ice cream. If it weren't for her performing later on that night, she'd probably already be doing just that. She was a mess, which was blatantly obvious, and even smiling seemed like a waste of time.

The next twenty minutes spent on the carpet mingling were pure torture to her, each minute stretching seemingly into an hour. She fidgeted, wandering from acquaintance to acquaintance, congratulating some and tsk-tsking others, not bothering to hide her sigh of relief as the party started to make its way inside the building. Those nearest around her chuckled to themselves at her exasperation.

She grinned weakly, rolling her eyes in a fashion that made the nearest cameras blind her with the flashes. Joy, just what I need. What will Aang say about this?

She preferred not to think about it.

Her curve-hugging dress rustled stiffly as she sat down, wincing as it cut into her lower abdomen. She shifted, breathing a sigh of relief as the pain subsided. The show started, and she felt herself slipping into sleep…

-ø-

"Why am I here, Sokka?" Aang asked wearily, looking out around the dark auditorium. The program had obviously just started, as the speaker who was onstage at the time was the president of whatever company had called the banquet. He had been invited, but had decided not to attend on a variety of different reasons. Still, Sokka had barged into his house using his spare key ("Sokka, you know that's only for emergencies!") and forced him into a tuxedo against his will. Despite the protests and the eight minutes it took for him to be pushed into his car, Sokka had managed to get him to the auditorium.

"Because you're obviously still in love with my sister, and you're only making both you and her miserable by being an idiot and not getting back together," he said confidently.

"But she-"

"I don't care what she did! My baby sister is unhappy, my best friend does nothing but pout all day long, and it's because of something that can be easily forgiven and let go!"

"But I-"

"Stop being such an idiot, Aang!"

That silenced the younger of the two.

"What are you so afraid of?"

He said nothing.

"Whatever it is, you truly do love Katara. She was wrong, I know, but she's not lying to you when she says that she'll get her act together."

Nothing.

"Since you're not saying anything, then I'm taking it that you agree with me." Sokka shoved Aang towards the open doors. "Forgive her, Aang. It's worth it; trust me."

His gray eyes watched as Sokka left, staying focused on the door plenty after he had left.

"Whatever," he mumbled, stepping inside and quietly finding his assigned seat. It was a row behind and to the left of Katara's, he couldn't help but noticed, and to his dismay his breath caught in his throat.

She was gorgeous, more so than usual as she had not been in his sights in nearly two weeks. A silky black gown hugged her form as it cascaded towards the floor, where it flared around her feet. The heart neckline accented her chest quite nicely, causing him to blush fiercely under the dim lights. Her bountiful hair had been curled loosely; the top half was pulled back into a soft pouf and cascaded down her back along with the rest of her hair. Tendrils of dark hair fell into her face, framing it beautifully.

Damn her, he thought in annoyance. Not only did she decide to be gorgeous, but her appearance alone awakened parts of him that had been dormant for the past week and a half. He wanted nothing more than to get out of that cursed place and go home, just so he wouldn't have to spend his night looking at her.

That'll never happen, since all Sokka will do is slap me and send me right back here, he groaned. Defeated, he sat back into his seat, and with one last look at the gracious beauty that was Katara, turned his attention to the stage.

-ø-

"Mmm!" she cried angrily as an elbow was unceremoniously jabbed into her side. She wasn't in that much of a sleep anyway; she was still plenty aware of even the smallest things going on around her. Katara turned and glared at the person next to her, some D-list celebrity from a new soap opera. She rolled her eyes at the smirk before getting up. She had but five seconds to put on a smile and brace herself for the blinding spotlight that followed her onstage.

The president of the charity greeted her warmly and shook her hand before gently pushing her towards a microphone. Her bright blue eyes scanned the crowd, searching. She let out an inaudible sigh as she couldn't find him.

What did I expect? she chastised. Why should he be here? Definitely not because of you.

"Good evening, everyone," she said into the microphone. "This next song is an original I wrote a few months ago. Even though it has absolutely nothing to do with this charity, I feel like we can all relate."

Silence. It was making her nervous.

"This goes out to my…um… goes out to Aang. Aang, wherever you are, I apologize. For everything."

No one said anything. Katara took this as a sign to begin, and with a nod, her crystal clear voice rang throughout the hall.

I don't know what it is that you've done to me
But it's caused me to act in such a crazy way
Whatever it is that you do when you do what you're doing
It's a feeling that I want to stay
'Cuz my heart starts beating triple time
With thoughts of lovin' you on my mind
I can't figure out just what to do
When the cause and cure is you, you

Shaky at first, her voice was low and intense. She looked in the crowd, smiling weakly and swaying slightly. She was edgy, to say the least, and prayed to whatever gods were around to listen that she wouldn't screw up, not now.

I get so weak in the knees
I can hardly speak, I lose all control
Then somethin' takes over me
In a daze, your love's so amazing
It's not a phase
I want you to stay with me, by my side
I swallow my pride
Your love is so sweet, it knocks me right off of my feet
Can't explain why your lovin' makes me weak

She gained strength and volume, her confidence soaring as she escaped into her own groove of things. This was her time, and no doubt that Aang was listening; she'd be damned if he didn't see how much she meant her apologies.

Time after time after time I've tried to fight it
But your love is strong, it keeps on holdin' on
Resistance is down when you're around, pride's fading
In my condition I don't want to be alone
'Cuz my heart starts beating triple time
With thoughts of lovin' you on my mind
I can't figure out just what to do
When the cause and cure is you, you

Katara closed her eyes for a brief moment, blocking out just about everything. A pull broke the microphone free of its stand, allowing her to move freely around the stage. The words flowed boldly over the crowd, its raw melody unearthing some emotion deep within her. She took a deep breath and started again, giving it her all.

-ø-

His eyes were squeezed shut. Her form moving about the stage was tempting; he wanted nothing more but to run up there and cuddle her into his arms. She was pouring her heart out on that stage; he could tell, and none of the stuffy executives surrounding him knew anything about what was pumping through his veins at that point. Self-control was about to break.

Maybe he was making a mistake.

No.

Yes.

No!

Yes!

Her next notes were soft and low, so unlike the previous ones. Aang leaned in against his will, his body aching for more (much more). His hands gripped the edge of the seat, knuckles turning an ash white.

I've tried hard to fight it
No way can I deny it
Your love's so sweet
It knocks me off my feet

His feet tapped against the floor, anxious to walk down the aisle.

Yes.

-ø-

Katara kept going; she felt her entire self being exposed at that moment. The words stirred her, moved her, and there was nothing at all that was able to stop her right then.

A movement in front of her caught her attention, though she didn't stop.

A familiar figure appeared just below stage, and her heart caught in her throat.

A lopsided smile was suddenly beside her, and she stopped completely in pure shock.

Arms circled her and pulled her into an embrace, one that smelled of sandalwood, fresh air, and vanilla musk. The auditorium became deadly silent as the brunette choked up, right there in front of the world, grasping him tightly so that he would not run away from her again.

His fingers ran through her hair, soothing her in only a way he could.

"Aang," Katara whispered, her body melting into his.

"Sing," he replied.

An unsteady hand brought the microphone near her lips.

I get so weak
Blood starts racing through my veins
I get so weak
Boy it's somethin' I can't explain
I get so weak
Somethin' 'bout the way you do the things you're doin'
Knocks me right off of my feet (off my feet)
Can't explain why your lovin' makes me weak (I get so)

She breathed deeply, her body shuddering. A hot tear flowed down her face freely, searing her cheeks. "Keep going," he murmured. His arms circled her lower back and they danced across the stage, keeping rhythm.

She finished, dropping the microphone and collapsing into his body. Aang bowed his head into hers, feeling the relief of a burden being lifted.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for everything, Aang. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She was sobbing now, heaving into his chest.

"I'm sorry for not giving you another chance."

"I deserved it."

"No, no you didn't. Everyone is supposed to get a second chance. Forgive me for not giving you one."

She sighed once and broke away. They smiled at each other before saying together:

"Forgiven."

-ø-

Awww…now wasn't that so sweet? I wanted to add something more, but figured the ending was emotional enough to carry it (that, and I couldn't figure out anything that would end this story with a bang). I've been working on this for three months, if you can believe, and am both relieved and sad to see my baby go.

Well, you know the deal- review, criticize, and compliment, please!

XOXO daydream11