Author's Note:

Sorry this took too long. Happy 4th of July.

What I Always Loved About You

Chapter 11: A Wounded Phoenix

Katara woke with a startled cry.

Someone was walking around the store above them, and Sokka's hand was over her mouth. She quickly stifled her gasp.

In the dim light coming from the edges of the trap door, she saw Sokka motion for her to stay there, and him to go up. For a moment she wanted to protest, but she knew that Sokka knew the covert workings of Fire Nation politics and secret societies better than her. Surely he could handle a fishmonger at any rate… She nodded and sank back against the wall, but not before giving her brother's hand a reassuring squeeze, which he returned.

Above them the fish seller seemed to be cursing. She wondered if it was about the broken door or the smashed up chair. Sokka used the sound to mask his footsteps as he crept up the semi-creaky stairs to the trap door. Light streamed in, making everyone shield their eyes as he opened it slowly. By the time Katara could look again he had closed the door behind himself.

A moment later there was a grunt, and a half shout that was cut off. A few loud footsteps that shook dust down on all the cave dwellers. Zaheer woke up as debris fell in his face and began to make the moaning noises a waking child often did, but Katara didn't think anyone would hear it over the quiet grapple going on in the shop. After another moment, she heard Sokka's voice, and the man exchanged a few words with him. Unlike the men from last night, they were speaking in hushed voices. Katara could only make out a word or two.

She held her breath as footsteps moved towards the trap door and it was flung open, revealing the blinding light again. "It's safe," Sokka called down. "He's a friend of Zuko's."

A grubby old man's face appeared beside Sokka's, smiling with a few teeth missing. "More like a friend of Lady Mai's," the man grinned. "She got my son's criminal record expunged so he could keep working in the Navy. Moving my shop here seemed the least I could do - plus the palace pays my rent!" He scratched his head. "Never thought anyone would actually need to use the tunnel though…"

"Trust me," Sokka promised. "It's a long story."

"Another time then," said the man. "You've got young-uns down there? Welp, bring 'em up. We'll get something going to eat."

"What are we having?" Kya asked hopefully.

The man grinned stupidly. "Fish!"

But he actually provided much more than that. A quick trip around the little fish market brought him back less than ten minutes later, his arms full of fresh, steaming meat buns and a dozen eggs. Sokka and Meng went up the stairs to help with the preparations, and as the smell of food started to waft down into the tunnel, first Kya, then Bumi, and finally Zaheer cautiously poked their heads out. When Zaheer saw the food, he skipped the stairs completely and jumped all the way up into the store. Katara listened vaguely to Kya chatting with the three-year-old about his breakfast and whether or not to try fire sauce on it. At least he seemed to be moving on from last night. Kya too. Bumi seemed unnaturally quiet however.

Katara sighed. Where was Aang? If rebels had really taken over the Fire Nation, shouldn't Aang have come back to their rendezvous by now?

Sokka came down the stairs with a plate of food for her, and she rubbed her eyes before taking it gratefully. "Any news?" she asked Sokka before digging in.

"These guys are loyalists," Sokka stated, and Katara raised her eyebrow as she stuffed her mouth. "That means they want things they way they were under Ozai, and if he can't be Fire Lord, they want the heir he named rightful successor."

"Azula," Katara surmised.

Sokka nodded. "But they seem to have the support of a lot of nations… I saw earth and waterbenders out there…"

"Why would any Earth Kingdom or Water Tribe citizens support a Fire Nation that wanted to kill all of them?" Katara asked confused, and Sokka shrugged.

"Maybe they think they'll get better trade with Azula, or they made profit off the war… who knows. It's stupid, but the movement is clearly reaching a lot of people."

Katara eyed Sokka. "Was Zuko a bad King?" she asked, somewhat ashamed she didn't know. "I've heard all good things…"

"He was a great King!" Sokka agreed. "But even great Kings make enemies. It is impossible to please everyone in this world, and the way he took the throne made him enemies before he was even crowned. Not to mention, enemies of the Avatar are his enemies now too."

Katara sighed. Aang was one of the kindest, most caring people she knew, but he still made many enemies. The world seemed to be full of fools who wouldn't stop hurting others without someone stronger making them behave. "What happened last night?" Katara asked.

"Aang and I got separated," Sokka stated simply. "There were Yu Yan, and you know he can dodge an arrow way better than I can." Katara nodded. "He sent me ahead to check on Zuko. But I haven't heard anything from him yet. Maybe he's doing his Avatar thing and trying to negotiate with them…"

"Maybe," Katara agreed hopefully. Then she glanced down at her patient. "I seem to find myself sitting over Zuko's deathbed almost every time we meet up," she admitted. "What is this, his third arrow since he joined our team?"

Her brother shrugged. "You'd think he'd learn to dodge," Sokka teased half-heartedly. She knew he didn't meant it. Zuko's reckless selflessness was one of the few qualities they both admired about him.

"What happened?" Katara asked her brother. "How'd you get those burns?"

The wolf-tailed warrior sighed. "Don't sweat it. Kya actually did a really neat job healing them up. But yeah… Aang and I separated, and he launched me over to the inner city. After I reached the palace walls, I landed with a flying kick-a-pow-"

"Still not a word," Katara interjected.

"-and took out one of the guys on top of the inner wall," Sokka continued, ignoring her comment. "Boomerang took care of his buddy. Then I saw that the palace was crawling with baddies. They all had these… red armbands. So I quickly took an a disguise from a guy I'd kick-a-powed and went in, all sneaky like. I found that many of these people had never met before tonight, each of them only knowing a few of the others, so no one questioned if I belonged to their unit or not. I knew they were looking for Zuko, and I figured if I hung out with them, he'd either get away and I could slip off in the morning, or they'd find him and then I'd find him too."

"But what if they killed him before they told you?" Katara asked.

"It's not like I could search the whole palace all by myself faster than the fifty-some men they brought. I risked it," Sokka admitted, and his sister had to agree with his logic. She nodded for him to continue. "You were half right though," Sokka admitted. "By the time I got the call that they found him, and then got over to where he was, he'd already taken that arrow to the chest, and some masked jerk-off was standing over him with a torch and flask of what looked like oil. He… Katara I think he meant to… burn Zuko alive. He was all 'Can a phoenix burn?' and then he threw the oil at Zuko." Sokka's voice dropped darkly as he recalled this last bit.

"So of course, I boomeranged it. Which made all the baddies in the room turn to me and be like, 'Hey… Get him! He's too awesome!'"

Katara leaned forward head on her knees as she set her empty plate down to listen. "Sokka this is serious,please."

"So was I."

The blue eyed waterbender had to sigh at the ludicrousness of her brother."...Whatever. Did they burn you?"

Sokka shook his head. "I was about to be all FWOOP! BAM! PA-CHEW! on them, but before I could, the oil thing I broke had gotten on the masked guy's sleeves and he caught fire from his own torch, and then there was all this confusion and shouting… but the masked guy was yelling all mad and he tossed the torch at the oil pile, and the whole room went up in flames.

"Everybody was all like 'Oh no! That stuff over there is gonna explode! Run away!' But they were right!" he exclaimed dramatically. "Masked guy ran away, but he left some explosives and they were gonna blow Zuko and the whole room to high hell.

"Of course, since I'm such a manly hero and all, I dived right in and tried to save Zuko, but the explosion went off before I could get him out."

Katara snorted. "Let me guess, he was too heavy for you?"

"What!? He is ridiculously well muscled for a guy who spends all day sitting in a chair!" She shook her head at him. "So yeah, we totally both would have gotten blown up, but right as the bombs went off, the wall slid open. At first I thought it was an earthbender, but it turned out Meng was in the secret passage behind the wall and she had finally found the lever to open it. We both got blown into the passage, which is how I got all these burns, and probably when Zuko hit his head. Meng closed the door, we figured out who each other were, and than we tried to drag Zuko to safety. Then we bumped into you, and I think you know the rest."

Katara absently pushed a lock of Zuko's hair away from where the lump on the back of his head was. "I hope he doesn't go stupid from sleeping with a big bump like this, but I can't bare to wake him up right now. Plus if he moved around…" She shook her head sadly.

"Well, look on the bright side," Sokka suggested. "How much stupider can he get anyway?"

Katara stifled a small gentle laugh. "Well, he could drop to your level of brilliance."

"Hey!" Sokka protested, but the good natured ribbing gave them both a much needed break from the building stress.

After they had finished sharing the laugh, Katara asked the big question. "So… what next?"

"Well, our ride is literally blown," the Water Tribe warrior raised his hands in a Water Tribe salute to the departed. "We can't move Zuko much, so I don't think trying to water-bubble off the island is a good idea."

"Where would we go anyway?" Katara asked. "Without a ship, we'd just be trading one Fire Nation island for another."

Sokka nodded. "Plus, we can't leave until-"

"-we make sure Aang is okay," Katara finished the sentence.

"So I think we have to stay."

They both looked at each other for a moment. "Time to blend in then?" Katara concluded.

"It would seem so," Sokka agreed. "Fortunately, Mai has prepared me well for this situation." Katara frowned. "She's Zuko's spymaster, you know. Or was…"

"Was?" Katara tipped her head to the side.

"They got in a fight. He was all bummed."

She frowned. "I didn't know."

"Eh, you'd just found Zaheer. I didn't want to bring it all down," Sokka admitted. "Not when you all were sooo… up!" He grinned proudly. "Get it? Up? Because you found an airbender?"

"Yes, I get it, Sokka. What did Mai do for you?"

"Oh, right. Well, do you remember Wang Fire?"

Katara nodded, recalling years ago when she, her brother, Toph and Aang had been hiding from the Fire Nation in the Fire Nation and created the personas of Wang and Sapphire Fire to protect their identities when Aang was mistaken for a student. "Mai suggested I keep Wang alive."

"Sokka, he's just a fake name. You can't keep him alive."

"No, I mean, whenever I would come to town to trade, I would spend some time as Wang Fire, and Suki played Sapphire. We kept up the pretense that we had a home in the colonies, and we also purchased one here under Wang's name. We vacationed there sometimes." He grinned, clearly missing his wife. "We claimed we come into the city to trade, and I also sold a few of my goods under his name."

"Why?" Katara asked puzzled.

"Just in case of something like this," Sokka surmised. "Don't you see - I'm a legitimate citizen of the Fire Nation, and I own a home and I have a legitimately registered wife - Sapphire."

"A fake legitimate wife…"

"But a REAL home, and a secret identity, and Fire Nation money."

Now Katara was catching on. "That's perfect! Is it far? Can we get Zuko there? If we go, is there any way to leave a message for Aang in case he shows up looking for-"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Sokka waved his hands dramatically. "Old-man-Fish-Breath and I were just working out the details. He's got some spare robes in his room - nothing in children's sizes, but I think we could hem up a man's tunic into a little dress for Kya, and roll up Bumi's sleeves. We'll just have to die Zaheer's robes and hope no one notices the style until we can buy him some real ones. Thank spirits he doesn't have an arrow yet!"

"What about Zuko?" Katara asked worriedly.

"The guy has a cart he uses to make deliveries," Sokka told her. "We can put Zuko back there, cover him with a blanket, and then hide him under some fish."

"And then probably never tell him about the fish part?" Katara grinned.

"You read my mind, little sis." Sokka smiled. "If Aang comes, hopefully he pops in this shop. Fish-guy will be on the lookout for him and tell him where to go. Also I can get a message to the White Lotus. If he turns up anywhere like Iroh's shop we'll find him there too. Plus, I painted a airbender sign on top of the roof of Wang's house a while back. You can only see it if you fly, so if Aang's searching the skies for us, he'll find us."

Katara smiled and hugged her brother. "Good job!" she told him. "You really have this planned out."

"Eh," Sokka admitted. "It was mostly Mai."

"I don't care who it was, let's go!"

The siblings rushed off to prepare for a move, glad to be done hiding in a cave again. Katara couldn't help but smile. She was feeling very hopeful again. This was just one more challenge that wouldn't beat them, and she was ready to face it head on.

Mai had been awake for hours now. She was so tired she could literally feel the bags under her eyes. Who could blame her? One usually did not sleep well in prison. At least, she thought it was a prison. It was dark, damp, and metal bars kept her at bay. What else could it be called? It was dark, and though her eyesight had already adjusted, it was what she heard that caused her concern. Not a soul, not a whimper throughout the day. Not until her wardens came by to give her stale bread and a bowlful of gruel they call dinner did she even hear the sounds of anything other than wind.

Wherever she was she was definitely isolated.

She knew it was part of the plan to break her down. It was an effective method, and one she had employed on more than one occasion working as Zuko's spymaster.

She had lost count of the time she had spent down here. Days… weeks... maybe months had pass. Human beings were not meant to be without sunlight for long. It made it hard to keep track of things. This made it hard to collect her thoughts… thoughts she needed to plan her escape.

But Mai was made of a stronger mettle. To keep her sanity she retreated back to the recesses of her mind and thought of more pleasant times. Of Zuko.

As much as it pained her, the golden eyed man was one of her very reason for living. So long as she kept him in her thoughts she could go on forever, no matter the hardship.

"Hey," she would appeal to her jail sentinels, but they would respond with nothing.

The next day another word.

And another.

And another.

Until words became phrases. Phrases into questions.

"Where's my father?"

"Safe. With us, Lady Mai. Now eat and no more talking."

Gradually she was beginning to piece together what little information she could wrestle out of them.

She was kept in some kind of ancient labyrinthine prison. A relic of old Omashu under the Palace. Her father was among the conspirators that placed her there. And likely it was his influence that kept her alive. Why else would they need to?

And so she continued to think. To plot. To scheme. She had a time limit and she knew it. By what seemed like a week's end she had already made a couple of escape plans before the unlikely arrival of a guest.

Her metal bars opened as the man in the iron mask walked in with two armed escorts.

"Greetings, Lady Mai."

She could only stare at that lifeless face. The iron hid his features but those eyes that looked at her were dull yet strangely sharp, as if void of caring, but overly attentive. A sign of a man who had been to hell and back.

"Why so formal, Mr. Iron Mask? I'm the prisoner here."

"Just because you are my prisoner does not make you any less Ukano's daughter. You are by birth and right, one of us. Deserving of respect."

"You have a strange way of showing it." She meant the words to be more sarcastic but found herself spitting out her bitterness.

"I am sorry about this, really I am. But you are far too dangerous to us and our cause."

"And what might that be?"

"... some might say it is the rebirth of a Nation. I call it the death of a King."

She imagined a smirk had come across that hidden face. A vicious urge to lunge at him screamed in the back of her mind but Mai kept the voice at bay.

Barely.

"So to what do I owe this visit? You've never come down here before. I don't even know your name."

"Not for lack of trying I'm sure. I've heard you've been subtly asking my guards question."

Now it was Mai's turn to smirk, she leaned back casually in her worn lump bed.. "Not really. I was just lonely, that's all."

"As expected of a master spy."

"Could you spare me the empty flattery? You're making my skin crawl in disgust." One of the guards moved a step towards her, clearly taking the bait.

The Iron Mask stopped him.

Tsk.

This guy was well too guarded. None of her prodding had revealed any weakness so far.

"So, what do you want?" The ice in her voice could freeze a polar bear-dog.

"To ask you to join us. Your skills are highly sought out and highly revered. You'd do well in our New world order."

He stated this simply. As if it was that easy to buy her soul.

"Never." She gritted her answer through her teeth.

"...As I thought. You are Ukano's daughter alright." The man in the Iron Mask turned away from her, his business clearly done. "Very well. I have time. Time to wait you out Lady Mai."

His head turned to her, those eyes stared directly against hers. "By the way… The revolution has won. Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai, is no more. I thought you might want to hear the news, personally." He paused. "... Long live the King."

Something in Mai came unhinged.

Not True.

It couldn't possibly true.

He was a liar.

LIAR!

There was just no way… Zuko… Zuko couldn't have…

She continued to stare at him in defiance, her inner thoughts a raging turmoil. "... When I get out of here… I promise you this, I. Will. Kill you… Iron Mask."

"... I look forward to it." He gave a mocking salutation with his hands before locking her cell back up, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more in the dark.

For a long time there was nothing. He knew nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing. It was a peaceful oblivion.

But then he started hearing things.

He wasn't worried. They weren't bad things. They were voices. Very distant voices that meant little to him. A man's voice was speaking near his good ear. "Kya, don't run there. We're almost home now, Bumi. I'll take over the cart again?" There was a bump of sorts and the voices faded.

Soon they returned. "...coming to. Should we give him some more?" a woman was asking.

"I don't have much more," the very familiar voice of Katara replied. Now Zuko was sure he was dreaming. He hadn't heard that voice while awake in years. "I think we'll just have to try and move him. I don't want to put him back under with that concussion anyway. We did okay going up the escape tunnel stairs…"

"I still say we keep him in the downstairs room," the female suggested.

But the man overrode her. "If anyone comes looking through the home, there'd check downstairs first. It wouldn't give you any time to hide him."

"I agree with Sokka," Katara decided. "We'll just have to go slowly and be very careful. Sokka, I mean it, his shoulder… you have to hold it very steady, the way I showed you, without putting any pressure on it."

The voices started to fade again, and Zuko prepared himself to slip into his oblivion again, ready to embrace its cool darkness. But before he could fade away, pain shot through him.

He felt his body convulsing, his muscles were cramping and spasming, and his left side burned with intense pain. It felt like there was a huge hole in his chest, ripping his body apart as it was poked and prodded. When he tried to move, his leg twisted painfully, almost overwhelming the pain from his shoulder. Around him voices were shouting out in a panic. He realized his eyes were closed and opened them.

He instantly regretted it. The dim light of the room struck him like lightning in its intensity. His head throbbed and everything blurred around him.

"Put him down," Katara's voice shouted. "Put him in the bed, quickly."

"LET ME GO!" he shouted as the hands grabbed at him again, the pain shooting through every particle of his being as they lifted him, moving muscles that were in total lockdown.

He tried to grab at his painful shoulder with his good right hand, but someone was holding his wrist. "GET OFF ME!" He knew he was weak, but he tried to shake the person off anyway.

"Ow!" a voice shouted, but it only tightened its grip on his hand. "Mom!"

"Hang on Bumi," Katara's voice came again.

This was real this than he realized. It had to be. Why would he ever dream of being in so much pain? "Katara!" Zuko gasped. "Katara, help! It hurts!"

"Stop fighting us, Zuko," she spoke back in calming tones. "We need you to let us move you. Don't fight us, fight the pain."

Zuko wanted to ask who 'us' was, but he didn't really care. The pain was too much. He focused his entire being on letting whatever was happening happen, on not trying to defend himself. It was almost impossible, but he tried.

After what seemed an eternity, his back touched something soft. The rest of him was lowered onto a bed, and slowly his body took a more comfortable position. The pain was still intense, but it was no longer tearing at him. Seconds later, he felt the cool touch of healing water seeping through the burning pain of his shoulder. "I got shot…" he whispered, remembering the pain of it. Dimly the memory came back. He had been… shielding someone… "That girl!" he gasped. "Meng!"

"I'm here Zuko," she called from near the foot of the bed, and he realized she had been the voice that suggested he stay downstairs. "I'm okay."

"You're safe here, Zuko," Katara's voice promised. "Rest now."

"S...safe...good...good…" Almost immediately the darkness took him again.

It felt ages before he was aware again. More voices, sounds, and even smells floated through the darkness to him. Children laughing, or fighting, their little feet stamping across the hall. There were hushed whispers sometimes that sounded like Katara and Sokka arguing. Often there was the soothing, healing feeling of Katara's waterbending. At one point someone pressed a kiss on his forehead, but the voice that followed was Meng's. "Thank you for my life," she whispered. "Farewell."

After that things were quieter for a while. The darkness began to fill around him more utterly, but it was no longer a peaceful escape. It began to feel more and more like an infinite trap. Whenever he heard snippets from the outside world, he would struggle madly towards them, wanting to claw his way out of his dark retreat and into the light of consciousness. Sometimes he would succeed, and come to long enough to realize that he was in a bed somewhere, surrounded by wood walls, and a low roof. It wasn't the palace, but if he had to guess by the temperature, he was still in the Fire Nation. One time when he managed to open his eyes. A small girl was staring back at her, her blue eyes shockingly familiar.

She gasped a little, her mouth parting just the slightest as their eyes met, and there was a moment where they just stared at each other. He knew those eyes. They were Katara's eyes. But the girl must have been less than ten years old, and he had never known Katara when she was so young. She opened her mouth and called out, "Mom! He's awake! Mom he opened his eyes!"

The pooling blackness swirled across his vision again, and the last thing he heard was Katara's voice. "Are you sure?" and the sound of her feet rushing down the wooden hallway towards him.

Then all was dark again.

It became harder and harder to fight the darkness, but now that he knew who was waiting for him to awaken, he wanted it more than anything. He swore if he ever made it back he would not let himself go back to that lonely void again. It was a long wait, filled with worried voices and occasionally the sound of Katara's hushed prayers.

Then, one night, he did it. His eyes opened again, and he saw that same roof, with its wooden beams, and felt a gentle night breeze across his face.

Instantly, he felt tiredness. Exhaustion like he had never experienced since that fateful day he had collapsed in the tea shop arced through his body. He felt the oblivion pull at him, ready to embrace him again. But he heard a voice echo through his mind, and it was like a light striking out at the darkness. For the only true death… is to never LIVE!

At that moment he felt it - the sun rose. It infused his body with strength and life. It filled him with fire.

As the power of the sun rushed into him again, he gasped, and the deep breath sent pain stabbing through him. He groaned. He remember it - the horror of it, the wrongness of that hole in his shoulder… He turned his head slowly, expecting a pounding headache, but was relieved to find just a mild dizziness. He looked at his shoulder. There was a large scar right above his heart, but it was almost healed. There was no hole, no gaping wound… At first sweet relief that he was whole and not ruined washed over him, but soon it made way for another worrying thought. It was almost healed. How long had he been asleep?

He tried to turn his head the other way, but found himself too weak to even lift it back off the pillow. The muscles in his neck strained futilely against the weight of his head. Frustrated, he tried to lift his right arm, but even the blanket felt as if it were made of stone. Redoubling his efforts, he managed to pull it free of the covers, letting out a triumphant grunt as he did. To his right, someone stirred, mumbling in their sleep.

He tried his head again, and this time, with a great effort, he managed to turn his head the other way. As he did so, his body shifted the tiniest bit, and he felt his leg twist in a very disagreeable manner. He could not stop the pained moan from escaping his lips.

But it had been worth it. Now he was staring away from the window at the other side of the room, and it was the best view he had ever seen. Katara lay there, in a cozy looking chair with pillows, a blanket pulled up under her arms, murmuring in her sleep.

It had been so long since he had seen her… Ages it felt like. But instantly he was back to being that awkward teenager, so unsure of who he was, desperately wanting her approval - and so much more. He watched intently as a bang of hair slid across her cheek, studying every inch of her face, and the way each breath she took moved across her parted lips with a warm rush of life.

She had aged. She wasn't old, far from it, but her face had taken on a new look. It took him a while of staring to put his finger on it, but when he did he knew instantly what it was. Motherhood. There was a weariness, and a sense of unconditional love and pride… Her chin was sharper than he remembered, but her eyes seemed kinder. Often he had seen them open, glinting with the thrill and determination she wore in battle. But even closed, he saw that they had softened. The lines around them struck a chord within him as he recalled his own mother's face, and he wondered if the same was true for all mothers.

All the good ones, I suppose…

Suddenly he knew who that girl he had seen must have been. Her daughter, Kya. Which was followed immediately by another, more sobering thought. Aang's daughter.

He felt a separation he had forgotten about growing between them again. Suddenly the distance to the chair from his bed seemed like a canyon. But his skin still tingled. It had been so long since he had been this near her. Surely it couldn't hurt just to look…

For a long while he lay there gazing at her sleeping form. It was all he could do in his weakened state, but after the darkness, it was more than enough. He surmised what he had been thinking since the moment he had first laid eyes on her after so long.

She was just as beautiful as the day he fell in love with her.

Slowly, the glorious rays of the morning sun crept across the room, streaking through the window. Eventually, one passed right across Katara's eyes, and she groaned, moving her head away from it, blinking as she awoke.

She rolled to the side a bit, as if considering going back to sleep, but Zuko didn't want to wait any longer. "Katara," he called gently. "Katara, wake up."

"Mmmhmmm," she mumbled. "Just a few more minutes, Aang…"

Zuko sighed. Of course she would think of her husband. It only made sense. "Katara… I'm awake. And it's not Aang. It's me."

She shot straight up in her chair, the blanket falling to her lap. "Zuko!" she gasped, her hands coming to her mouth and her eyes starting to water. She seemed afraid to jinx the moment. Slowly, she lowered her hands. "You're awake?"

He smiled faintly. "Yeah. I… It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

She sniffed and gave a little lilting laugh. The sound of it was like a long forgotten song. "That's the understatement of the year. How are you feeling?"

"Weak… and hungry," he admitted, his stomach grumbling in agreement.

"Good." She smiled and moved to kneel beside the bed. "I was afraid we'd be force-feeding you mush for the rest of our lives."

He raised his eyebrow quizzically, and even the muscles of his face seemed sore. She was running her hands across his chest now, water glowing in her hands and she took stock of her patient. "How long was I out?" he asked, and she jumped as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"Oh.. um…" She cleared her throat and pulled his sheets up over his wound. "It's been almost eight weeks."

Zuko blinked. His mind struggled to wrap around everything. Eight weeks since… It all came rushing back. The coup. Yuyan archers - the Red Moon. The Prophecy… "The Fire Nation," he finally whispered. "I… Where am I? What happened?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm sorry, Zuko," she told him, her voice heavy. "The Fire Nation fell. The Revolution won out. Everyone believes you're dead now - even we weren't sure you'd… make it…"

He felt fire rising inside him. "Who did this?" he demanded. "Who's in charge now?"

"Loyalists, mostly," she answered, and her eyes rose to meet his. "Azula is the Fire Lord," she stated simply.

But the words rushed to the core of his being. His people had chosen to kill him and replace him with Azula!? She had been a terrible Fire Lord! His chest heaved as rage filled him, and it started a coughing fit as his lungs refused to accept the rush of air.

"Zuko," Katara started. "You have to breathe easier-"

Her warning came too late. The coughing fit caused his body to spasm, sending waves of pain through him, shooting from his shoulder, which felt like it was tearing, cramping from his chest, like a metal bar had been wrapped around him, and the most painful wrenching from his knee as it seemed to twist in agony, working against him.

Katara began rubbing her water across his chest, just below the neck. Slowly, his coughing stopped, and he began to uncramp, letting the pain go and seeking the most comfortable position he could. He lay there for a minute, just breathing, feeling her hands across his bare skin. A tear from the coughing fit had trickled down the side of his face.

"I'm sorry," Katara whispered, her beautiful face filled with sorrow. "But we have to heal you first. Than we can deal with everything else."

Zuko sighed. "What about Aang?" he asked. "Is he here too? Why didn't he stop Azula?"

"He's not here," Katara answered, her voice taking on a strange tone. "And he did try to stop the loyalists. He was there, on the night of the Red Moon, but… He never came back."

"WHAT?" Zuko demanded.

"We don't… we haven't heard from him since. No one has seen him."

"But it's been two months!"

Katara shivered slightly, and wrapped her arms around herself. "I know."

Zuko glanced away. He wanted more than anything to comfort her, but even if he could have lifted his arms, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to… His hands curled into a fist, but it was a weak attempt. This was all so stupid! "I'm sorry," he told her uselessly.

The woman who'd lost her husband stared down at the King who'd lost his throne. "Me too. But we're still here," she told him. "I wasn't sure you'd ever wake up - you hit your head, and… But you did. You're awake now. So I have to keep believing that this can all turn out okay." Her hand went across the betrothal necklace that Aang had made her, hanging from her throat. "For all of us."

It felt like a lump had risen in the back of Zuko's throat, making it even harder to breathe. She stood up, stretching carefully with her hands in the small of her back. "Well, there's no reason for you to be hungry anymore," she decided. "I'll got get you some warm porridge and toast with butter, and I think we have some sheep-goat's milk."

His stomach rumbled at the thought. What he really wanted was something heartier - maybe slathered in his chef's delicious gravy… But he knew Katara was right. Porridge and toast was likely more than he could handle. If coughing hurt that much, he did not want to try throwing up. He started adjust himself to stand, but she quickly pushed him back into the bed. He was so weak compared to her that it was an effortless movement on her part. "Oh no, your Highness," she teased. "I think it's breakfast in bed for you today."

Sighing, Zuko resigned himself to his fate. At least he was awake again. Katara stood to leave the room, but just before she shut left his side he called out her name. "Katara! I…"

She stepped back in, making a quizzical sound. "Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry I… that I never wrote back," he concluded. "It's been… too long."

She leaned forward over him and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "You're forgiven," she told him simply. "But you have a lot to catch up on."

He smiled weakly as she slipped away from him and left the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and soon the smells of breakfast began drifting through the house. Zuko's mouth watered. However, before Katara ever made it back upstairs with his food, he had drifted off again. This time though he did not fall into a numb void of darkness, but rather into a deep, healthy sleep, filled with dreams of Katara, his mother, and the voices of children echoing down the halls.

A clattering of plates woke him up. A bushy head of brown hair was standing beside his bed. "Katara," he said, without thinking, and tried to reach his hand out towards her.

He failed miserably on both counts. His weakened arm just slipped off the side of the bed, sending a brief spasm of pain through his shoulder. At the sound of his voice, the brown hair jumped about a foot in the air. He realized as it did that this girl was way too short to be Katara.

The child spun around as quick as a prairie-cat, with what looked like uneaten lunch dishes in her hands. Some of the food slopped down her front in her panic. It was the same girl he had seen before - the one who's eyes were so blue they almost made his heart stop.

"Kya," he said instead. "I thought you were-"

"MOOOOOOOM!" she shouted suddenly, making Zuko's head ring, and she darted out of the room with her lunch dishes.

From what sounded like a downstairs he heard Katara answering her and snippets of their conversation.

"Why are you screaming?" Katara's voice asked in its familiar mothering tones.

"He was looking at me," Kya's voice whined.

"Well yes, that is what people do when they're awake. They look at things." There was the sound of Kya huffing. "Well, what did you say to him?" A soft sort of mumble was all Zuo could make out of the girls response. "You screamed and ran away!" Katara's lilting laugh followed, and the sound of Kya sticking out her tongue. "Kya, I think we need to have a talk about manners."

Before Katara could say anything else, Zuko's attention was distracted by the sound of approaching feet - moving way too fast to be a child. There was a blur of something red outside his door, a person, he was sure, moving very fast. Suddenly he felt very exposed. He tried in vain to lift his arm back onto the bed, but it didn't move. What if someone found me, he thought, a bit of a panic coming over him. I'm a sitting turtleduck. I can't even move.

He tried to use his left arm to push himself up to at least a sitting position so he could see out the door, but just twitching the arm sent the most painful responses through his shoulder and chest. He winced. There was nothing for it. "Who's there?" he shouted.

He kept his eyes trained on the door, listening for any sound, any give away that there were others. Slowly, very slowly, the face of a child leaned back into the doorway, cautiously sizing up the room. The panic faded almost completely, and Zuko felt the heavy exhaustion coming back over him, but he didn't give into it this time. This could not be Bumi - the child looked to be much younger than Kya, and had green eyes and very short cropped hair. His face was squashed and rounded, showing he had a squarer jaw than either Katara or Aang… Even if he had somehow missed that they had a third child - but no. Less than a year ago Katara's last letter had said the North Pole couldn't help her have one… Who was this then?

The child was still glaring at him from the door. "Who are you?" Zuko demanded.

Quite suddenly, the boy rushed into the room, moving too fast to be an ordinary kid. He rushed right behind the footboard, where he ducked out of Zuko's sight. Then he slowly began raising his head over the footboard like he had the door to stare at Zuko.

"You know that's really creepy, right?" Zuko told him when he could see the child's face again.

The boy made a strange face at Zuko but otherwise didn't respond.

"What's your name?" Zuko asked instead.

He narrowed his tiny eyes at the King, but eventually decided to answer. "Zaheer."

Okay, that was something. "Ah… hello Zaheer. I'm… Zuko?" He had no idea how to speak to kids.

But that seemed to be enough for the inquisitive boy. He jumped straight up, too high, way over the footboard, and when Zuko flinched, expecting him to land and send the bed bouncing, he had to open his eyes again a moment later. Air was rushing about the room, blowing the blankets, and Zaheer landed peacefully on the bed without rocking it. "Ooooooh," Zuko realized. "You're the airbender Aang found a while back."

"You knows Aang?" the boy asked excitedly.

"Um… yes."

Zaheer blinked twice. Then he launched into a barrage of questions of which Zuko could only make out half of. "Do you knows where he is? Are you really being king here? How come you're not dead yet? Can we going home to 'public Island now that you're all waked up? Do you really knows Aang? Why are you so skinny? Is it hurting if I do this?"

Zaheer scrambled forward, stuck out his little hand and touched the scar on Zuko's face, climbing over the bed to do so.

Zuko stared at him, agast. He blinked twice at the incredible strangeness of the situation.

"No," he said finally, recalling the last question; 'Is it hurting if i do this?' "But your knee is kind of hurting my side."

Zaheer didn't seem to mind this though. He just smiled and poked Zuko's face more.

"Stop that," Zuko told him.

The child ignored him.

He could blow fire at the kid - his breath and lips worked fine… But what if that hurt him?

Feeling like a petulant child himself, Zuko scrunched up his face and called "Katara!"

Almost instantly he heard the sound of her rushing up the stairs. Zaheer gave him a very grumpy look as the waterbender appeared in the doorway. "Zaheer!" she scolded, taking in the scene. "What are you doing!?"

She dashed out to grab his arm and get him off the bed, but he flinched away when she reached for him. She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed.

"Fine," she said, stepping back. "If you don't want me to help you, then please do it yourself. It is not polite to touch people's… faces like that. And I have also asked you not to touch or bother Zuko until he's better."

"He is being better," Zaheer insisted. "He's talking!"

"He is feeling better," Katara corrected habitually. "But he is not well yet. Now off the bed." Zaheer crossed his arms now, pouting, and sat down hard. Zuko gritted his teeth as the bed bounced slightly. "Three…" Katara held up three fingers. "Two…" she put one down. "One." She reached out to grab Zaheer and he darted off the bed, running for the door.

As he darted out of it he nearly smacked into another person, who's legs he wrapped himself around. "Wuz wrong?" the new boy asked in a sleepy voice. "Someone shouted."

He had his hands on a sword, Zuko noticed, and was sporting a very mussed up bed-head. Despite his shaggy hair and sleepy visage, he looked like a strange mash up of Sokka and Aang. His happy go lucky grin and the shape of his body was so close to the twelve year old Aang who Zuko had met so long ago, but the long jaw, narrow grey-blue eyes and wild swordsman's stance were very Sokka. Zuko blinked as he took in the courageous child in his doorway.

"She isn't letting me touches his scar!" Zaheer yelled, as if tattling on Katara to the new boy.

But the blue-eyed boy rubbed his eyes, and opened them again, more awake this time. "Is that…!?"

Katara smiled. "Bumi, meet your Winter Father, Zuko."

Both of them stared at the other for a moment, as if sizing up the other. Zuko remembered the ceremony where he had been declared Bumi's Winter Father. He could hold the boy in one hand back then. He remember the small, fuzzy headed creature that gnawed on his finger with its gums. Now he looked at the wild, brave boy in front of him, and he heard Katara's echoing words You've got a lot to catch up on.

He realized he should say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

Just than, Bumi snapped his sword back into its sheath, and his arms rose in a formal firebender form. He bowed. "It is an honor to meet you," he intoned.

But when the boy looked up, Zuko realized that he had been sized up too - and found wanting.

Why shouldn't that be true? He couldn't even raise his own arms to greet Bumi back. He was skinny as hell, half dead, and about to be fed by the boy's mother. He couldn't even defend himself from a toddler poking him in the face.

The Fire Nation didn't have things like Winter Fathers, but Zuko tried to imagine what it would have been like to have had one - an absentee one like himself. He imagined meeting his for the first time, and seeing someone who looked like he did now. He understood why Katara had never stopped writing. He'd thought that maybe he could get over her if he was free of her, but he had failed to realize when he accepted the role of Winter Father that he had become a part of their family. Now he realized he had neglected to live up to those obligations because he was so worried about facing Katara. He had let his own problems come between him and this boy - the same boy who had apparently come to the Fire Nation and risked his family to save Zuko.

Zuko's heart felt heavy as he returned the greeting. "The honor is mine." What else was there to say?

Bumi looked at him for one more minute, then turned to Zaheer. "Hey, is that dinner I smell?" he asked.

"We were waiting for you," Zaheer told him fondly.

"Well wait no longer, my little friend!" Bumi declared. "I'm ready to eat!" He glanced over at his mom. "Is it okay if we start?"

She nodded. "I'll be a little while up here, so please start without me."

"Are you sure?" Bumi glanced back at Zuko.

"Of course," Katara assured him. "Zaheer is already very hungry."

Zaheer frowned at Katara.

"Should I stay and help?" Bumi asked.

Katara shook her head. "But can you send Kya up when she's done eating? I'd like her to meet Zuko too - not just panic and run away."

Bumi nodded and shut the door behind himself. Soon his and Zaheer's footsteps faded down the stairs and Katara turned to Zuko. "Well," she said, her voice worn out. "So, um… that's the family. I mean, they're always a handful but… I'm sorry for how they all acted. I guess there's been a lot of hype about meeting you and..."

"I'm a bit of a let down, aren't I?" Zuko surmised.

"No!" Katara answered quickly. "It's not that. Kya's just really nervous - I can't believe she screamed at you… And Zaheer! I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with that boy." She frowned, pouting a bit. "Seriously, I've told him to stay off your bed!" She blushed hugely. "I can't believe he touched your scar! That's so embarrassing."

Before Zuko could come up with a response, his stomach let out a huge rumble.

They both stared at each other for a moment, then began laughing. "I'm sorry - prattling on like that when you're starving. Let's get you some food."

Carefully, Katara lifted Zuko's shoulders, leaning him forward so she could stuff pillows behind him until he was in a sitting position. Even as gentle as she was being, moving still hurt - a lot. His ribs screamed in pain as he leaned forward, and her hand on his shoulder burned like hell. When the sheet over him slipped down, he was able to really see his own body for the first time. His left side was a mass of bruised ribs and scarring. The center of his chest still held the terrible scar from Azula's lightning. The right side was mostly clean, but even that looked hideous to him. He was so skinny he could see his own ribcage, count each bone beneath the skin. His muscles were gone - atrophied, he thought was the word. He had seen beggars on the streets in better health than he was. He also looked very pale. As a firebender, he rarely went long without sunlight on his skin, but now he was a chalky, pasty color that made him look even sicker. Katara leaned him back on the pillows, and readjusted his arms back onto the bed. "What's wrong with my leg?" he asked, afraid to look at it.

"You tore a ligament," Katara told him. "You also bruised the kneecap pretty well, but it didn't break, fortunately. That's mostly healed but… I'm doing my best with the ligament. We have to try and keep you from turning it for a while longer still. Now that you're awake I should probably splint it again…"

"Katara…" He glanced away. "I'm sorry. I feel like I've really put you out. Your whole family… Aang's missing, and I can't even feed myself!" He felt his chest contract painfully as his breathing intensified. "Ugh! I can't even be angry." He felt exhausted just from trying. "I should have just listened to Meng's stupid prophecy."

Katara sat down on the bed next to him. For a moment she was silent. "I won't pretend I'm not worried about Aang, but… If we hadn't come here, I might never have gotten to see you again. So I'm glad about that."

He looked up at her finally, wanting with every fiber of his being to lean in closer, to touch her… He was closer than he had been in years. The smell of her was overwhelming him. He had spent years trying to get her out of his mind, and now all of it was gone. One second with her and all he wanted was her. He knew it wasn't fair, knew so many things were wrong about that, but he was just too tired to care.

As if sensing his thoughts, Katara reached out and wrapped his frail body in a gentle hug. His head leaned forward and rested on her shoulder, the top of it pressed against her collarbone. Other than that, their only contact was her arms, wrapped gently around him. It felt like… like a mother, somehow. Not that Katara was his, but… It was exactly what he needed at the moment, and probably all he could handle, if he was honest with himself. He let himself lean into her, let his weakness overcome him, his disappointments, his fears. How long they stayed like that he was unsure, but when she finally moved again it was growing dark. He was shocked how much better he felt. Katara sniffed and rubbed her nose. "So, your soup's getting cold."

"Not porridge?" he teased.

"You'll be eating plenty of that," she promised. "Tonight I have beef stew - well, beef broth anyway."

"Mmmmm."

But it was still so delicious. He felt stupid letting her feed him, upset at how helpless he was, but the soup was so damn good he couldn't protest. He was massively hungry. The more he ate, the hungrier he actually felt. She stopped him before he ate half the bowl however. Even though he wanted more so badly, he could already feel what he had eaten sloshing about in his stomach. It was unfair. She began to pack up the meal. "Kya never came up," she noted.

"Let her be," Zuko forgave the girl. "I'm too tired now anyway. She can come when she's ready."

Katara quirked her lips in annoyance at her daughter. "Don't be too soft on her or she'll walk all over you," she warned Zuko.

He tried to laugh, but winced in pain as he did so..

Katara waited for him to calm down, then slowly removed some pillows so he could rest easier. "We'll do a healing session again in the morning, and I want to splint your leg too," she told him. "But mostly I want you to keep getting good rest. I know you feel like you've slept too long, but it's good for you. We'll start you moving your good limbs in a few days, when you're able to eat more." She looked down at him. "I know it's so very hard to be hurt like this," she told Zuko, "but I'm going to help you get through it. We all are." She smiled. "Because that's what families do."

Suddenly he had a thought. "Families… Katara, how's my Uncle? Do you know if he-"

She shook her head. "I haven't heard from him and I've been afraid to go to his teashop - but don't worry! Lai Fo went there on the night of the Red Moon. He said if he couldn't be with you, you would have wanted him to look after your uncle."

Huh. That was very on spot for a guardsman. Usually he considered them an annoyance, and he had snapped at Lai Fo more often than anyone else. He had often bossed his guard around, ditched him, and come down on the man hard, even believing him a fool. But never had Lai Fo protested - and now he had taken care of Iroh. Perhaps Zuko had underestimated the man. "I'm just glad Uncle's okay," he admitted, and a big yawn escaped him as he did so.

"Rest," Katara told him. "While you can. This house is rarely quiet."

Zuko wanted to say that it probably wouldn't bother him if the kids made noise - he felt tired enough to sleep through a rock-a-lanche. But the words never came out. The last thing he remembered before sleep took him was Katara's lips pressed gently on his forehead and her voice whispering. "Good night, my proud King."

Katara sat in the chair that night, watching Zuko sleep. It was a different feeling now. When he slept his face moved here and there, not just in pain, but in a dream. Sometimes he murmured things. Words and thoughts spoken out loud. It was a true sleep, not a comatose state.

She thought of how often she had sat there, spoon feeding him mush and water, slowly coaxing him to swallow, praying he didn't just die in the night. Twice imperial guards had come by the house. Clearly, they worked for Azula now. The first time they bore the announcement that all within the household must swear loyalty to her. Meng had rolled Zuko's bed into the closet (it just barely fit) and pretended to be changing when the guard searched the house. Embarrassed he had not completed the search of the room. After that, Sokka (as Wang Fire) and Katara (as Sapphire) had sworn allegiance with their family. Meng had said she was a sister-in-law from the Earth Kingdoms. The guards seemed suspicious of her, and somewhat of Zaheer. Katara had been so afraid the child would bend air at some point and give them away.

After that Sokka had decided it was better to leave. Saying Wang had been hurt or had a fever or something was better than having someone unregistered in the house if more guards came. He was also afraid more guards would come for Meng. He said someone needed to organize the White Lotus and start looking for Aang, but Katara knew he missed Suki too. One night, when their was no moon, she created a bubble under the water, and walked the two over to the closest island. It took all night, but she left them on the beach to await a pick up from the White Lotus. Sokka promised if she needed help that she should go to the Jasmine Dragon - but also to be careful. Others would know that the White Lotus operated from there. So she was only to go if she truly needed assistance.

So she was alone, with the children, for weeks, trying to keep Zuko alive. Other neighbors passed by, clearly curious about the Fire house. After all, they were colonists who rarely stayed there. Occasionally neighbors would knock, but Katara never answered the door, or if she did, she never invited anyone one, and closed it as quickly as she could.

Zaheer had purely refused to stop airbending. He used it all the time, in every aspect of his daily life. Katara's greatest fear was that someone would watch through a window and see him bending. She tried to keep him upstairs in the room farthest back from the street. Even since she had used bloodbending against him, he had rejected her completely. He never listened, obstinately did the opposite of whatever she told him to do, regardless of consequences, and flinched every time she tried to touch him. He refused to talk to her about it, and would throw tantrums if she tried. He would only do what she said if he was forced. She had come to rely almost completely on Bumi to motivate Zaheer, but she knew it was unfair to her son. Their lives depended on the airbender's good behavior, and even she couldn't motivate him, but she had to put that on Bumi. She missed Aang greatly in these times.

But not as much as she missed him on the lonely nights, when she sat curled up in the creaking chair, watching Zuko's still form. She felt so alone. There were seasons every year that she and Aang spent apart, but never had she felt as lonely and isolated as she did here, trapped in the Fire Nation, watching Zuko's lonely sleep and wondering if he would ever wake.

The second time the Fire Nation guard came through to check for unregistered civilians, Katara claimed Wang had penta-pox. She told them he must have picked it up in the Earth Kingdom before arriving here, and that she and the kids had quarantined him in the bedroom. Even Fire Nation doctors refused to see him! But she told the guards that if they wanted to risk the disease spreading not just to them, but across the whole city, they were welcome to be her guest. After much muttering about it, they decided just to open the door. When they saw the man asleep in the bed, with the fake Wang Fire beard careful placed to hide most of his scared face, they let him be. He looked close enough to the sketch on Sokka's Wang Fire form. Again the guards left none the wiser, and Katara barricaded her family back in the house.

She had burned through a third of Sokka's left over money when Zuko had finally awakened. Against her better judgement, she had started letting Bumi do the shopping trips. He used to go with Sokka, but Katara was afraid to be away from the house too long. Zaheer was always beside himself while Bumi was away, but Bumi never complained about the extra work. He even took up household maintenance as best he could. After tending to the yard, he often climbed up on the roof just to make sure the airbending symbol was still visible, and Katara knew how much he missed his father.

By the time Sokka had been gone a month, Katara had even more reason to desperately wish for any word of Aang, but before she could worry about herself, Zuko woke up.

So now, here she was, sitting in the dark, relieved beyond measure that keeping him unconscious during his concussion had left him permanently comatose, and wishing beyond anything else that she had someone to share her secrets with. When she had hugged him earlier, she had wanted solace as much as he had. She had yearned to spill all her secrets and worries… But he couldn't even lift his arms to hold her back. She knew now she had to be the strong one, for a while longer still.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, and sniffed heartily, renewing her determination. She was not the kind of woman who keeled over and gave up if her husband wasn't around to look after her. She had handled way worse than this in the past, and she would handle this too.

When Aang came back, she would make sure he had a happy, healthy family to return to.

With that final thought, she finally fell asleep, curled up in her blanket and nestled in her pillows, her face turned towards Zuko, just as she had slept every night for the last two months.

Just a little longer.