A/N: Not sure I'm really happy with this, but since I finished it I might as well post it. And, of course, I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. P.S. After THREE weeks of being unable to access my stories, I now can! Thank you FFnet for fixing this!

Stones Unturned

~O~

"I would rather have eyes that cannot see; ears than cannot hear; lips that cannot speak, than a heart that cannot love."

-Robert Tizon

~O~

It was without a doubt one of the worst events in his entire life-perhaps in all of his lives. It was one of those divine moments, those moments that move in slower motion, that could so easily have been prevented, but wasn't.

"Please," Aang whispered, voice almost pitched to a whine. "Please, please, please."

But there was no response. Katara's breathing was as flat and even as it had been for the last few days. He had kept her bundled in furs and blankets, hopelessly siphoning water down her throat and pushing Appa harder and faster than the beast had ever been pushed. For all his powers as an Avatar, Aang was now useless, and desperation filled him, darker and icier than the wind they flew through.

o

He settled down tenderly, the young woman clutched tightly to his chest as the Northern Water Tribe healer woman sat across from him. Her eyes were milky, blind, but she moved and spoke with confidence. It was eery, like she was more spirit than human. Her hair limp, whiter than the snow piled up outside, beads snagged here and there in the mess.

Her voice was husky, like summer smoke. "It is not physical. Not anymore, at least."

"I don't understand," Aang whispered. "Why will she not wake?"

The woman looked at him oddly, and Aang had to remind himself that this woman was blind and couldn't really see him. But she was searching for something and he couldn't tell what, but goosebumps broke out down his arms and up his bare neck. He clutched the limp, delicate bundle of Katara closer to his lanky chest.

"You don't know?" The woman questioned, but it was an unnecessary query. Of course he did not know.

"How could I?" Choked Aang, "It's all a blur. After-" He stopped.

"It won't be easy," she finally sad, and her voice really was like the low murmur of reed pipes. "It will be one of the most difficult things in your life."

"...I defeated the Fire Lord..."

The Healer Woman gave him a flat look. "You underestimate the girl. "

"But it's Katara." As though this explained everything.

"Exactly. You will fighting her now."

"I don't understand."

"There are no herbs or remedies, nor waterbending that can heal whatever malady has befallen her. You will have to enter her mind. You will have to force her awake no matter the cost."

Aang held his breath, turning to stare down at Katara's pale face. One calloused hand tenderly brushed against her cheek, like the finest of silk in his eyes. So long he had outgrown her. So long it had been perfect. How could something so incomprehensible happen?

"The Spirit World."

"Not the Spirit World," replied the woman, "her Spirit World."

"-I-"

"Her mind. Her heart. Her."

Aang felt his chest tighten, twisting and coiling, like a thousand small serpents had take the spot of his heart. "I can do that."

"Make haste, because she flees. The longer you wait, the higher her defenses are raised. She is strong, and she will fight you."

Aang hunched over the girl, as though the woman's words hurt him physically, as though they were blows stronger than even Toph's rough earthbending. How could Katara hide from him? Why?

"Now," uttered the woman. "NOW."

It was like jumping in the ocean during the middle of a storm without ever having swum before. It was like trudging through the desert with grit in your hair and face and teeth and the sun buffeting against your sensitive skin until it peeled and bled and you buried yourself in the scalding sand. It was like falling from a tree and seeing the rocks rush towards you, and there was nothing, not one thing you could ever do that would stop the oncoming blow.

Entering Katara's heart was like that, but worse, so much worse.

Deep breaths. In. Out. Blue eyes. The cool feel of her water as it healed and soothed. Her hands on his neck. Her lips against his. Her hair loose and brushing seductively against his bare chest. Katara...

o

He was drowning. Water filled his senses. Blue and dark and so fucking cold. He clawed. He fought. His lungs stretched and tensed and shriveled and screamed. But the water pulled him, buffeted him, taunted him and refused to release him.

Aang desperately attempted water bending, but it refused to listen. It was useless. He was going to die. Blackness. Spots behind his eyes. Numb fingers.

And suddenly it stopped.

He was floating, and above him was light, and with a last rush of strength Aang pushed himself up, bursting from the choppy ocean waves with a sputtering gasp. He took in as much air as his lungs could handle, making up for the minutes that had been wrung from him. He floated, and stared at the low ceiling of purple clouds that loomed ominously above him. It was windy, but the waves just lapped calmly, as though it was a pond, or a glassy lake, instead of the middle of the torrential ocean. In the distance Aang spotted the sharp white of snow, the icy edge of a water village.

Katara...

Once again he tried to pull the waves, to force the water to do his bidding, but the power that was normally easy and light was like sludge. Stubborn and concrete, the sea would not do his bidding. In resignation Aang began the long, arduous task of swimming to shore. Airbending was still at his beck and call-and though he had yet to test it, he assumed flame and earth as well-but anything even affecting water left him high and dry.

Over the long years of fighting, fasting, and traveling though, Aang's body had hardened and toned, and he sliced through the waves with a steely determination. It helped that it was for Katara that he did this. It was always Katara. All roads imminently led to her, like a the bright, unwavering light of the north star, she was his sun. His moon. The light filtering through lush tree branches. The breeze as it gently caressed his skin. Carefully prepared warm tea. His heart. Everything.

The journey to shore was long, tiring, and painfully cold, but Aang made it and pulled himself onto the ice with a groan. He was grateful that it wasn't as cold here as it was in the true south. If so, he would surely have been dead already, his blood freezing in his veins, his heart stopping, and Katara never waking up again.

In only a few minutes Aang was back up and taking long strides to where he knew the village would be. As long as Katara hadn't changed anything at least. The ice was bleak, and everything was oddly muffled, like he was sucked into some kind of void. The telltale crunch from the snow and ice he marched over was absent, and the only think he seemed to hear was an eerie, empty echo, like he was in a cave.

Was this what was in Katara's heart?

One last slope, and he knew the village would be there. The friendly chatter as women bustled children around, and the men salted fish they had caught from their intense fishing trips. Familiarity.

Aang took the last step, and stumbled.

There were no happy little ice huts, drying furs or cheerful fires. No penguins tottered around, or any other life form for that matter.

The village had been gutted. The huts torn, wooden structures burned, the furs scattered and maliciously ripped to shreds. Aang took another half step forward, his heart pounding, then began to slowly walk through the devastated village. No bodies, thank god, were in the wreckage. Just the haphazard destruction of winter supplies and loved homes remained.

He stopped in the center of it and closed his eyes.

"Aang!"

He turned, and watched her as she stumbled towards him with a bright grin, wrapped tightly against the icy wind.

"Katara," he sighed in greeting.

In a second she was upon him, her arms wrapping around his neck, and his wrapping around her waist. He dug his nose into her hood and hair, and ignored the way the fur tickled his nose .

"You're late," she whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm going with you next time."

He wanted to refuse, to tell her it was too dangerous and he craved the peace of mind knowing that she was safe and content in the midst of her family and village, but he couldn't. It was too hard without her, like a rat gnawing away at his chest, he could not be without her.

"Okay."

Aang opened his eyes, and the wisp of memory disappeared in the face of destruction. "Katara..." he murmured, but there was little time to reminisce. He had to find her, and he had to free her. He started to walk, but came to a pause. At his feet was a rag doll.

He studied it silently, taking note of its scorched hair and button blue eyes. With little thought he picked it up and slipped it into his sash, continuing onward.

He smelled the smoke once he reached the opposite edge of the village. Bitter and sharp, it filled his nostrils with acrid violence. Clarity suddenly ensued. This was not some imaginary amalgam of Katara's heart. No, this was far worse.

This was a memory.

Like the lifting of an invisible curtain the void was gone, and in its place was the clearness and horror of the attack on the water tribe. Screams, explosions, shouts. Without a second thought Aang was sprinting. He thought of Katara as a cowering little girl, and with all the power in his veins he flew forward, feet barely touching the rolled ice.

Suddenly she was there, cowering before a hulking fire bender. Aang reached forward, but the speed had deserted him and it was like running through molasses. He saw the fire bender move, saw him punch the air, and saw the flame shoot out to engulf the sobbing girl. In her place was just a melting indent of ice.

Aang collapsed, gasping in horror.

'It's not real,' a voice, so remarkably like Katara's that he couldn't deny it. 'A mere image. A fear. It. Is. Not. Real.'

Aang stood, limbs shaky, and the faceless firebender turned towards the Avatar. The man was oddly fuzzy, and lurched like he was attached to strings being awkwardly manipulated by an inexperienced puppeteer.

"Enemy," the man slurred. Aang remained still, drawn up to his full height. "Ship. Now."

Aang looked behind the bender, and suddenly the grandiose fire ship was there, creaking in the waves. Something tugged at Aang. Something compelled him. He needed to get on that ship. He had to. It was one step closer to finding Katara.

Aang took another glance at the wavering firebender, then marched past him. He approached the ship, climbed the gangplank, and tried not to feel so unsettled as more blurry firebenders approached him. They wavered, as though painted by watercolors onto an old scroll, and then began to hustle him over to an open trap door. Aang peered hesitantly into the darkness, but the benders refused to let him move backwards an inch. They motioned aggressively to the inky, oozing blackness. With a deep breath, Aang leaped.

o

"Don't be ridiculous, Aang," Katara scolded, her cheeks flushed with irritation.

He didn't respond, instead crossing his arms and refusing to look in her direction. Perhaps he was pouting, but he couldn't help the flare of jealousy that spiraled out of control when Katara had greeted Zuko so intimately.

"Aang..."

Suddenly he wilted. "I'm sorry, Katara," he murmured, still looking away from her.

She moved forward, her feet silent against the carpeted floor of the room Zuko had presented them with. She stopped in front of him, and her delicate hands cupped his jaw, gently forcing him to look at her.

"Don't you know by now?"

Aang blinked.

Katara smiled gently, and he wondered at how small she seemed now that he was so much taller.

"You are the center of my universe..."

Aang woke up to the dark, blinking back the last residue of warmth the memory instilled in him. In its place was the dank smell of wet stone and thick moss. He sat up, feeling around him gingerly to discover he rested on damp, rough hewn stone.

How did I lose consciousness?

Groggily Aang snapped a little ball of flame to life. It caught, but flickered ominously and seemed oddly depressed, as though it's light fought against some kind of sentient darkness. Aang tried not to shiver and stood, finding himself in a small stone room, surrounded on all sides by grated rock. Looking down, Aang saw the only thing on the floor was a half chewed piece of prairie grass.

Jet.

The telltale lurch of insecurity bit at his belly, but Aang suppressed it. Jet was dead. He had been for years.

But, he couldn't help but wonder, did Katara still hold Jet in her heart?

Instead of pondering it too long, Aang strode to the wall closest to him and rubbed his fingers along it. The subtle vibration of earth answered the call of his blood, and beyond Aang could feel a labyrinth.

She's somewhere in here.

Quickly Aang molded the stone to his will and created an entryway from the room. The fire in his other hand flickered, and suddenly he was plunged into darkness. His heart jolted, but restarted as a timid blue glow lightened his path. The crystals that had been underneath Ba Sing Se.

With cautious steps Aang moved forward, one hand constantly tracing the walls to keep his bearing. He couldn't sense any life. The only heart beat was his, and the ancient steady thrum of the earth.

"Aang, do you think I would be with you if I didn't want to be?"

Yes, he wanted to reply, but didn't. Why else would you constantly push me away? Why else would you refuse marriage?

"No," he finally muttered.

She gazed up at him, consternation obvious-

Aang stumbled over a small, jutting rock in the floor. He grimaced and scowled, but left it there as he attempted to focus his thoughts to the task on hand. She had to be here somewhere. How deep, how complex could a heart possibly be?

Aang knew the answer, but he didn't want to think about it.

He wandered more, weaving an intricate trail throughout the damp, unyielding maze. It seemed like an eternity before he came upon the large cavern. Water trickled through a stream in the middle, glittering like a thousand tiny stars as the glowing crystals reflected off its surface. Beyond that stood Katara, blank faced and being held by a skeletal Jet.

She was in the embrace of a corpse.

Aang stared, then began to take long, fluid strides over to her. But she remained impassive, and before he could cross the creek a wave of water and ice stopped him.

"Katara!" he shouted, but it could not be heard over the roar of the waves. Again, his waterbending was useless. That did not mean, though, that the other elements were not at his disposal. With carefully controlled movements, so as to not hurt the girl on the other side, Aang released a burst of wind through the waves, followed by a thick stone bridge. Almost immediately it began to crack beneath the battering assault of water.

But it was enough. Another burst of smooth wind parted the wall for just a millisecond, enough for Aang to slip through before the waves closed with violent, angry spray. The water screamed for just a minute more, raging like a monster gnashing it's deadly teeth, but it's purpose had been defeated. Like a dying breeze it collapse back into the glittering, starlight creek once more.

Katara watched him, her eyes stonier than the rock formations around them.

"I found you," breathed Aang.

The corpse Jet grinned at these words, his lipless teeth grotesque and malicious. His arms wrapped around Katara's pliant waist, skin peeling, black ooze leaving marks on her sky blue dress. His eye sockets were empty, the eyes long since rotted out, but Aang still had the unnerved feeling that the body was watching his every move.

"Mine," Jet clicked, his voice cords long since wasted away leaving only the odd sound of grinding bone and brittle ligament. "Mine."

"No," Aang replied staunchly. He turned to Katara. "Please, wake up," he pleaded. "Please, please wake up."

Her eyes, which had been staring blankly into the distance, slid to his face, then down to his sash. Aang glanced down at what had caught her attention, but only saw his usual bright clothes and the little doll tucked in his waist. It almost seemed like it was staring right back at Katara.

Jet laughed, and nausea rolled in Aang's belly. Something was very wrong here. It grated against his skin like metal screeching against metal. Another look confirmed his suspicions. This was not the right Katara. She looked at him, then twisted in Jet's rotted arms. Standing on tip toes, she pressed lush, living lips to the peeling skin of his face.

'So close,' a voice whispered to him desperately. Aang lurched away, sick and miserable at the sight. Where to now? There had to be somewhere else. This place wasn't the right place, and he couldn't help but feel completely lost. The Spirit World had never been this horrific, this awful.

A flash of rage engulfed him, and Aang slammed a fist against the rock floor. In response, a gaping maw opened, dark and menacing. Aang stared. His skin prickled, and there was that clicking of broken joints again. The oozing shadow was preferable to the corpse Jet and fake Katara. Without looking behind him, Aang leaped.

O

His hands roamed her hips, smooth skin against calloused fingers. She breathed, and it brushed his neck tantalizingly. It was these moments that he was able to forget. He was lost in her body, her breath, her voice, and nothing could take that away.

"Aang," she whispered, and his lips paused in the trail he forged from shoulder to elbow, over the smooth hills of her bicep as his hands brushed the soft plains of her belly.

"Marry me, please," he replied softly.

She tensed, and her hands reached down to grasp his. "I can't yet, Aang. We can't."

Darkness again. But this time it wasn't as all consuming and smothering as before. A warm, golden haze seemed to surround him, and Aang wiggled as he discovered he was in a very tight, enclosed space. He shifted a little bit more, attempting to get an arm above his head. This would be so much easier if I was still twelve, he thought wryly.

Above him he caught the hint of fresh air, dry and heavy with the scent of leaves and other forest detritus. Interesting. Squeezing his other arm past his body made from more room around his chest, but less around his shoulders. But the fresh air was strong on his bare skin, so Aang pushed himself up despite the painful scraping.

Light reached him, and with a last rush of effort Aang pushed and slipped out of the hole, flailing as he fell onto scratchy underbrush and twisted roots. He caught his breath and looked behind him. He had been stuck in the hollow of a decaying tree.

Aang shook his head and stood, brushing leaves from his rumpled, ripped shirt and firmly tucking the water tribe doll back into his sash. He took in his surroundings slowly, finding himself in the middle of a forest that was slipping from summer into fall. It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he had seen it. The knowledge was like grasping a slick tadpole in a rushing stream, he just couldn't quite get a hold of it though he knew exactly where it was.

Like before he started to trudge through the forest. It would have been peaceful if not for the eerie silence. No birds chattered. No creatures rustled in the bushes. Any sort of breeze was absent, and not even the trees creaked.

Aang remained tense and on edge, the elements just at the edge of his perception, ready to be called up in a flash. Like the land of ice, it was like a void.

It only took a few minutes of ducking and swerving through brush a tree though for Aang to notice the considerable thinning of the foliage. In the distance there was a clearing, and in the clearing there were figures. Silent, but violent. The closer he got the more obvious it became that a skirmish raged. He reached the edge, and was shocked as he saw himself and Katara battling against an overwhelming group of earthbenders.

And then he knew. This was where it happened. This was where Katara had succumbed to some kind of unknown sleep. But he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember because-

Sound rushed back. The creepy void that had been in place was brutally sucked away and Aang was almost deafened by the roar of bending. The screech of rumbling earth and snapping lash of Katara's water whip. The cackle of his flames and howling of his wind vortex.

"Aang!" Katara shouted to the other him, "there's too many!"

Other Aang barely paused in his attack, forcefully pushing away a handful of the rebel benders. As attuned as he normally was to the waterbender, he hadn't heard her. Aang watched with growing horror as the scene replayed out before him. She was thrown aside by a large chunk of rock. Other Aang saw and began to rush forward, but there were just too damn many. Her body was limp, and one feral earthbender was mere seconds from crushing her. Other Aang glowed.

A blast of energy tore through the clearing. A mixture of elements and pure rage. The earthbenders began to run, and Katara staggered to stand, blinking at the blinding light he exuded from arrows and eyes.

"Aang!" she shouted, stumbling towards him. "Stop! Aang, I'm alright. Stop!"

Sharp swathes of wind tore through the earth to chase the terrified earthbenders as they fled, but Katara blocked it. Water whipped through the air to shield the benders, then to mute all the damage his frenzied elements subjected the area to. Her face was far too pale-white with exertion and pain. Real Aang watched as she pushed herself beyond her limits to stop his rampant rage.

He wanted to shout her name, to scream at her to stop, but it was as though a hand wrapped around his throat, silencing him. He could only be a muted bystander, a mere audience to a grotesque play, his eyes locked to the scene like a magnet to the north.

"Aang!" Katara shrieked one last time, and finally he listened. The elements stopped, the wind calmed, and the menacing glow faded. Katara gazed at him, wide eyed, before collapsing to her knees. Other Aang didn't even see her as he slumped to the torn field. Katara crawled towards him, reaching out a hand to clasp his before she curled up beside him and closed her eyes.

The clearing stood still, and real Aang felt horror wrench at his gut and tear at his brain. It had been his fault. Whatever had happened to Katara was his fault. And he seemed no closer to waking Katara up that he had been when he had first trundled her up onto Appa and barreled to the north.

Aang stumbled forward to the two prostate bodies. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it. He wanted to rip his tattoos from his skin, to shred his Avatar soul until all that was left was the echo of guilt. If he could not even protect the ones he loved, then what use was he?

Something stopped him from actually approaching the bodies. Aang looked down, and for the first time since leaving the tree noticed the doll hanging limply from his sash. The hair had come undone and was frizzy with static. The button blue eyes stared blankly, and the little azure dress hung ragged off the potato bag skin.

Gently he moved her from his waist to look at her closer. Despite the grunge coating her body, the dress was ornately detailed, revealing the hemmed designs of the water tribe. A little frown was stitched into the face, and cool beads had kept her hair tame before Aang had stolen her from the odd southern water tribe dimension.

Around her neck was wrapped a lovely blue necklace with an even lovelier stone. Confusion crashed down on Aang. This was not just some random doll left over from the destroyed village. No.

This was a doll of Katara.

Suddenly the clearing started to melt around the edges. Pastel blue of the sky and vibrant green of the wood bled together like a poorly done painting. The prone figures in the center of it dripped and disappeared, and Aang couldn't help but feel horror as this universe was destroyed around him as he clutched the Katara doll to his chest like his heart. His last breaths came out quick and panicked before darkness ascended.

O

And then he was awake, clutching Katara, the real Katara, in his arms in the little shack of ice. And she was staring up at him, dazed, with her lovely, blue eyes. Her cheeks still too pale, her skin still too shadowed, but she was awake.

"Aang," she whispered with a faint smile, and relief bled through him like a thunderstorm, like a blizzard, like a hurricane that could not be stopped.

"Katara," he replied, but she already closed her eyes, this time in a real sleep, a normal sleep. She mumbled and sighed and snored just slightly. Aang glanced up at the healer woman, and she stared back at him knowingly . Tenderly Aang released Katara from his grasp, laying her down on the floor, close enough to the banked embers for her to remain warm. Then he left the hut.

The last hint of sun burst forth brightly from the horizon, sinking over the icy, black edge of the sea. Aang sat on the ice, hunched over, and began to thank all the spirits, all of life, all the world that Katara was alive.

O

It was an inky darkness, with only the ice reflecting the dim moon, when she came out. He was hardly aware of her as she wrapped slender arms around his waist, leaning her body awkwardly against the back of his.

"You're freezing," she mumbled into his icy shirt.

He didn't respond. How could he? He didn't even deserve to be in her presence.

Katara's arms tighten around him for a second before releasing him so she could move to snuggle into his side.

"Talk to me," she whispered, as though any louder tone would disturb the sanctity of lunar reverence.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I don't even deserve to be with you."

Katara turned to look at him sharply. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

He clenched his fists, shoulders tense, and hunched over even more. The feel of her soft hand against the base of his neck gave him pause.

"Aang, look at me."

He turned to look the other way.

"I mean it, Aang." A hard edge to her voice. "Look at me."

Hesitantly, like his neck was made of rusted metal, Aang turned to look at her. Wide blue eyes. Cheeks flushed from the cold. Mussed, dark hair. His heart.

"Whatever you're thinking-stop. This was not your fault. I wasn't truly in any danger." She continued, voice like there merest hint of fog at dawn. "And you came for me."

"How can you even say that?" His voice cracked. "It's my fault you were like that. I should be completely in control by now. Why would you get in the way? Why would you-"

She covered his mouth with an index finger. "Stop it. Stop blaming yourself. It was my choice, and I took it because I knew what would happened if I hadn't."

He looked at her questioningly.

"You wouldn't have been able to live with yourself," she said simply. "You're not a killer, Aang."

Something crumbled inside of him. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his chest and burying his face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm so, so sorry, Katara," he gasped. "So, so sorry."

Katara let him mumble apologies in her hair for a few minutes before she pushed against him.

"Enough. I get it."

"I-"

"No more, I mean it. Don't make me water whip your butt into shape."

Aang laughed weakly, but his heart was already warming. She was the balm to his soul. When he shattered, she picked up the pieces and seamlessly fit him back together again. The air to his breath. The energy to his soul. The blood to his heart.

Gently she pressed her lips to his, a 'this conversation is over' kind of kiss. Her eyes glittered beautifully, like the glowing stones in the dark caves, when she pulled back.

"You're cold," Aang finally said.

"You're colder," Katara quipped.

He stood and helped her up, wrapping his large hand around her small one.

Before they entered, Aang paused. Katara turned to him curiously.

"Katara," he hesitated. "...Will you marry me now...?"

Katara smiled softly at his nervousness. "It was never a no, Aang. I only wanted to wait until things were better. You know that, right?"

His features relaxed slightly. "So... you will marry me?"

Katara rolled her eyes. "Of course."

He pulled her into another kiss, deeper and more passionate, liquid warm in the icy cold.

"Come on," she whispered as they parted. "We really do need to get warm."

Aang nodded, and they both entered the healer woman's hut, hand in hand.