Disclaimer: If I owned avatar there would be NO MAIKO KISS!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Plot bunnies attacked. You know how it goes.

She was cold all over. Her body numb, her limbs in a refusal to obey her will.

She just slumped over the body that lay before her, staring in disbelief.

His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling they could no longer see. There was nothing but an echo of the person he once was etched on his face.

She looked away, gripping her stomach in an attempt to prevent the nausea that engulfed her from taking control. Her eyes were closed, tears rolling down her battle scarred cheeks. If she pretended it was not true, perhaps reality would alter, just this once.

Who would tease her, laugh at her "hair loopies", comfort her when she was down…

Who could comfort her now that he's gone?

Who would protect her; have her back when they fought?

When he was there, she was safe. She could charge straight at the enemy knowing he would always have her back. He would never let anything happen to her. But now, he was gone…

She broke into sobs, sitting over his mangled and scarred body, begging providence that they could somehow, in any way be together…

She wanted to hug him, tell him she loved him, she wanted him to wipe her tears like he did when mom died, she wanted to tell him that he was the greatest big brother ever.

But he had left her. He was gone, and had left her emotionally destroyed. Aang was alone.

It was all over.

The sound of her unstaunched sobs drowned out the footsteps approaching from behind.

He knew those sobs. He knew how rare they were, and he was curious as to what caused them; his reason for seeking her out dissolving on the spot – how could he fight her when she was like this?

Especially when her sobs reminded him of the first time he heard them, and what she offered to do then.

She had offered to try to heal his scar – perhaps he could offer to try to heal her broken heart?

No. She was the enemy, meant to be killed.

But she was fragile, brittle, and nothing in his code of honor said anything about harming helpless mourners.

His mind still halfway made up, he walked up behind her, close enough to see she was bent over the limp lifeless body of her brother.

He winced: another person to add to the dead. He hated the stench of their bodies; the cold look of the once living that was etched in their eyes.

Knowing her pain all too well, he said,

"Katara,"

He hadn't realized it, but he had never said her name before. All the nights he spent thinking over his choice in the crystal catacombs, he had always referred to her as "the water girl" or "her".

The name seemed oddly unfamiliar on his lips, but not unfriendly.

She heard her name. At first, she wasn't sure whether it was friend or foe. No foe knew her name, and if they did, she was too lowly to be called by it.

But that voice was etched in her memory. Those words that repeated themselves in her every time she healed an unconscious Aang were permanently carved in her mind.

I have changed.

Perhaps he truly had this time?

No. She mentally chastised herself for giving him yet another chance when he so clearly did not want, or deserve her trust.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice teetering on the edge of breaking into sobs again. She could only hold in her grief for so long.

"I'm sorry." He truly was.

"No you're not," She said, with surprising firmness in her voice for a girl who was crying just moments before.

What do you care? You're the Fire Lord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood.

She thought about repeating that speech, but decided against it. She was unsure if she would not break into sobs of anger by the time she finished saying it. And she did not want to appear weak in front of him.

She turned around. His expression was soft, hurt; he looked like a small child who was being urged to pet a ferocious looking animal that he had been assured was tame.

Steeling himself for the worst, he walked over, and sat down next to her, leaving about a foot's distance between them.

He did not raise his arms in a stanc. She did not take out her water. It was a silence, akward and uneasy, both waiting for the other to break the silence.

"I really am sorry," Zuko finally said, sincerity in his voice.

"I know," Katara said softly, wondering whether to cross her fingers or not. She decided against the latter.

"And I really have changed."

She turned to look him full in the face. It was softer, kinder than the one she remembered marching out of that fire nation ship the first time she saw him. She could not fear this face. She could not love that face.

Wait. Did she say love? No, she was being silly. He was the enemy, meant to be hated. Then why were they staring, or rather gazing, at each other like this?

She turned away to hide the blush that crept unbidden up her cheeks, and he stood up, saying,

"We should give him a proper send off,"

Grateful, but not trusting herself to speak, she nodded her head slowly.

He walked straight in front of him, and pointed both his arms at Sokka's limp body, and inhaled, about to cremate him.

"No!" Katara shrieked. What was he doing? She looked up at him, her eyes full of shock and disbelief.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and footsteps echoed across the hall.

"Well done my son," Sounded Ozai's deadly, malicious voice. "Killing one is enough. The avatar cares for the other. Let her live… at least for now."

A/N: Please review. I'm probably going to continue this, but only if you tell me too... personally, I think the Plot Bunnies will return for a continuation ;)

Jasmine