A/N: Another Beanaroony piece makin' me write (see story thumb above, check out Beanie's tumblr for full version). Get your feels ready, it's about to go down.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Echoes

It was late. Zuko knew he should be asleep, but the cheering echoed in his ears.

He shook his head. It wouldn't be like that. He crossed his arms and leaned against the pillar. In the distance, he could hear the ocean. He focused on the steady crash of the waves. Maybe they would wash away the applause.

He heard her walking up behind him. Zuko didn't turn around. The only person who would still be awake was Katara. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he twisted his neck to look at her.

"You okay?" She asked. He could see the moon in her eyes.

Zuko shrugged.

"Of course you're not," she answered herself. "No one is. That awful, stupid, ridiculous play."

"No kidding," he murmured, finally turning to face her. Katara's face was a strange mixture of concern and anger. Zuko thought it suited her.

"Just terrible." She smoothed out the shoulders of his tunic, scowling somewhere around his left collarbone. Katara muttered something under her breath. He held her wrists to stop her nervous ministrations.

"Hey," he said. She finally looked up at him again. "What's eating you?"

She gave a bitter smile and a gruff laugh. "Don't worry about it. It's stupid."

"Katara, if there's one thing I've learned over the past few weeks, it's that you rarely get this bothered by something stupid."

She frowned, focusing on his neck again. Zuko felt an itch under her scrutiny.

"I'll go first, if you promise to tell," he tried again.

Her eyes darted back, and he read the surprise in her eyebrows. He always seemed to be surprising her lately.

Zuko dearly wanted to scratch his neck. But he couldn't break this moment, with her hands on him, his on her wrists, and the steady thunder of the sea behind them.

Katara nodded. "Okay, you first."

"I can still hear them," he blurted out.

"Who?"

Zuko swallowed. He felt like there was a kiwi lodged in his throat; everything was fuzzy and dry and uncomfortably large.

"The audience," he managed. "Cheering. Clapping. When my d—he won. Killed us." Zuko wanted to duck his head, but he could still see the moon in Katara's eyes.

"It won't be like that," she said, pulling him into a hug. Her nose was against his neck, and his was buried in her hair. Jasmine and sweat and sand and heat. Zuko wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I know."

"It won't." Katara's harsh tone was softened by the feel of her breath on the skin of his neck. The spot that had been itching. Her spot, Zuko decided.

"I know." He tried to stop tracing circles on her back, but he liked the way it felt too much.

She pulled back to look at him, a hand on his jaw, the other holding his worst side. He'd never seen the moon look so fierce. His arms dropped numbly to his sides.

"I won't let that happen, Zuko."

He slumped, eyes closed. Katara rested her forehead against his cheek, and Zuko thought she might be tracing where his eyebrow could have been.

"That's not gonna be the end of our story," she whispered. Zuko sighed, posture falling more.

He felt her lean up, using him to steady her balance with a hand dropping to his shoulder. Her lips pressed lightly on his cheek, and she was touching the darkest part of him. He opened his eyes and stared at her.

The moon was gone, but he could still hear the waves.

"I know."

A/N: ilu,bean.