She visits him again in the evening, and she finds him where they left him. The scroll is in his lap again, and his brows furrow in concentration. A tray with covered dishes sits on the bedside table, apparently untouched. The door creaks as she closes it, but he doesn't look up.

"Uncle, I told you, I don't need any more tea. It won't help."

She stifles a giggle behind her hand. "Actually, it's me."

He startles and then looks up at her. "Katara! I'm sorry. Come in."

She takes a step forward, but hesitates. "I can come back later, if you want. I don't want to interrupt."

He sets the scroll on the bed and gestures her forward. She makes her way to the bed and sits in the chair next to it. "You aren't interrupting. Uncle just keeps trying to bring me tea. He says it's supposed to help with pain, but all it does is make me tired."

Immediately she is concerned. "Is there a lot of pain?"

He looks a little sheepish. "…Some. It kind of hurts to breathe."

"Zuko!" She rockets out of the chair, hands on her hips. "Why didn't you have someone come get me? I can help! Or did you just conveniently forget your friend is a master waterbender?"

He meets her glare with a look of embarrassment. "I guess I didn't want to bother you. Uncle says you've been healing me for three days. I thought you might be tired."

Her heart squeezes and her features soften. "I didn't make my fingers look like sea prunes by the end of every night just to leave you in pain now." She gestures to his chest. "Let me see if I can help."

His eyes widen. "Now?"

"Yes, now! You said you were in pain! Come on, move over and let me see."

At first he doesn't move, but she is already crawling onto the bed and he is forced to make room for her. He winces as he shifts. He settles in and looks at her again, as if not sure what to do next.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Lie down and take your shirt off!" His eyes pop and her mind catches up to her mouth. She laughs weakly. "I mean… I can't really heal you if I can't see the wound."

He complies, slowly easing himself down onto the bed. He stares intently at the ceiling, color tinting his cheeks, as he tries to undress. His hands slip and his fingers struggle with the knot of his belt.

Awkwardness settles over her as she watches him, and she desperately wants this moment to end. Impatience and discomfort get the best of her, and she huffs in frustration. "Here, let me help." She reaches out and begins working on the knot and tugging open his robes.

"Katara!" He tries to grab at her wrists, but she bats him away.

"Oh, don't be such a priss. I've been healing you for three days, remember? And anyway, it's nothing I haven't seen before." Her mouth snaps shut and she silently vows to be more careful with her words. As she picks apart the final knot, she tries very hard not to think of early morning firebending sessions at the beach house.

He looks sufficiently scandalized before settling his features into a scowl. The familiarity of the expression makes her heart curl in on itself and she can't help but smile.

She coats her hand in water from her pouch and runs it over his wound. She tries to center her thoughts, to think of him as just another patient, but only partially succeeds. This was so much easier when he was asleep. She closes her eyes and breathes, sensing the damage as the water glows. "There's still work to be done, but it's deep. It will take time and effort to heal, but I think it can be done."

His heart jumps under her hand and she opens her eyes to ask if he's in pain, but instead he's looking at her like she's said something profound. She sends her water away but her hand lingers on his chest. Her hand seems to move on its own accord; she watches her fingers as they trace the edges of the new scar tissue, glossy and pink. She frowns. "You'll probably always have this though. I'm sorry."

He catches her hand, startling her. "Are you willing to try though? To heal it?" He is looking at her intently, eyes searching, almost pleading, and she has the feeling he isn't just talking about his frayed muscles. She blushes but holds his gaze.

"I think most of the hard work is already done."

He sighs and his features relax; it is her turn to look away. She summons her water again and focuses on the wound, and his eyes fall closed as the room turns from red to blue. Her mind spins as her fingers weave through the water. The silence feels oppressive but her thoughts jump like rabbaroos and she can't decide what to say. She can't put what she feels into words, so she hums to fill the space.

His eyes snap open. "That's it."

She stops and looks at him, head tilted to the side. "What's it?"

"I said I had dreamed of you. Well, you and not you. She was older but she had your voice, and she was singing. It was that song. How do you know it?"

And for that moment she is back in the plaza, fear and despair weighing her down as she cries into his shoulder, the air thick with lullabies and smoke. Her throat constricts and tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She offers him a sad smile while she sends her water away. She clears her throat. "Take a deep breath. How does it feel?"

A shadow passes over his features, a cross between confusion and disappointment. But he doesn't press her and for that she is grateful. He follows her instructions and concentrates on his breathing, but the air catches in his throat when he tries to breathe too deeply.

"It still hurts, but it's better than it was."

She sighs and crawls backward, making her way off of the bed. She stands and straightens her robes. "You should get some rest. We'll work on it more tomorrow. Make sure you tell someone to come get me if it gets worse."

He is looking at her strangely, but he nods. "I will."

She bids him goodnight and walks faster than strictly necessary toward the exit. When she closes the door behind her she lets out a deep breath and covers her face with one hand.

"Coward."

At first she thinks the voice comes from inside her head, but she looks down the hall and sees Toph leaning against the wall.

"Excuse me?"

"That's it, isn't it? Why else wouldn't you be in there right now making out with Fire Lord Hotpants?"

Heat shoots to the roots of her hair and she storms toward Toph, gripping the girl by the shoulder and forcing her down the hall. She whispers through gritted teeth. "You don't know what you're talking about. Zuko is hurt. I'm trying to heal him. That's it."

Toph keeps pace with Katara but shrugs her hand away. "I might be blind but I'm not stupid. What, you think I couldn't feel what was going on this morning?"

She glances around; worried that someone might be around to hear. She sees no one but keeps her voice low. "There was nothing going on! I was just happy that he was finally awake!"

Toph responds in a sing-song voice. "I can tell you're lying!"

Katara has to restrain herself from freezing her to the nearest wall, if only to wipe the smirk off of her face. Instead she crosses her arms and growls low in her throat. "Don't be ridiculous."

Toph stretches her arms over her head casually. "Look, I don't know what happened during the comet, and I don't need to. It's not like this is the first time I've felt these vibrations between you two. You just need to face up to whatever feelings you have. Maybe then you'll stop driving us all crazy with your mood swings."

She opens her mouth to reply, but the words catch in her throat. All the energy seems to drain out of her body and she stops in the middle of the hallway. She looks at the floor. "I don't know what I feel."

Toph pauses, a few paces ahead of her. "Yes, you do. You just have to be honest enough to admit it. It's not fair to either of you if you don't." And with that, she continues down the hall.

She watches her go, and wants to shout that she's wrong, that it's none of her business. But she can't. She searches her heart, and a small part of her hates Toph for being right. She is a coward. But she doesn't have to be. She takes a deep breath and turns around.

She inches his door open and peeks inside. The lamps are burning low and he is curled up on his side, his breathing low and even. She feels guilty about waking him; after all, she was the one who told him to rest. She almost closes the door – surely this can wait. But Toph's words are still fresh in her mind, and she knows that this, too, is just an excuse. She stands up straight and steps inside, closing the door softly behind her.

She approaches the bed but he does not wake. Her blood thunders in her ears, and for a moment she can't make herself wake him. She stalls for a moment to watch him. He has removed his tunic and her eyes follow the curve of his bare shoulders and the gentle rise and fall of his ribs. His bare feet stick out the bottom of the sheets which are tangled around his legs. A piece of his hair flutters when he exhales. She is reminded suddenly of waking up in this bed and she can't help but smile. This time, if she touched him he would wake. She gathers her courage and reaches out, pushing the hair off of his forehead.

He frowns in his sleep and his hand comes up reflexively to swat her away before burrowing back down in the bed. She stifles a laugh and reaches out once more, gently shaking him by the shoulder. She whispers softly. "Zuko. Wake up."

His eyes snap open and he props himself up on one arm. He waves a hand and the lamps brighten. His eyes seem to focus and his expression changes from startled to confused. "Katara? What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to wake you. I just… I just needed to talk to you. It's important."

He frowns, but nods and gestures for her to sit. She climbs onto the bed and sits cross-legged next to him. He rubs his good eye with a knuckle while he waits for her to speak.

Her mind suddenly feels crowded again, and she realizes she doesn't know where to start. He is watching her, waiting patiently, and each second that goes by feels more embarrassing as she wishes she would have thought this through. Her eyes fall back to the starburst in his chest, and she can't help but remember what it was that first night, the weight of his body as she tried to drag him. The hope that slowly drained from her as the hours and days passed. The fear that the things she needed to say would remain unsaid and unknown. The guilt that she felt that he would give up so much to save her. This, she decides, is as good a place to start as any.

She looks down into her lap and gazes at her hands while she speaks. "I'm…I'm really glad you're okay… I was really scared though, Zuko. I spent three days thinking you wouldn't wake up. Those first two days we were all alone and I was a wreck." She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them. "What were you thinking? Why would you do such a thing?" Against her will, her throat starts to close up and she can feel tears prick at the corner of her eyes.

He slumps back and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry; I thought that I had her. I thought that I could finally beat her and – "

She cuts him off. "That's not what I meant."

He swallows and stares at the ceiling. The moment stretches out before he finally says: "Azula preys on weakness."

She looks at him, feeling indignant, though there are still tears in her eyes. This is not the response she is expecting, and not the one she wants. She pokes him in the shoulder. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying that I'm weak? That I couldn't take her? I'm the one that defeated her, remember?"

He licks his lips and tentatively covers her hand with his own. "I wasn't talking about your weaknesses. I was talking about mine."

Oh. Looking into his eyes, something brightens inside her, something warm and new that feels like spring. For a moment she is mesmerized, but this burgeoning feeling only reminds her of what she might have lost. She pulls her hand back and waves a finger in his face.

"Well it was still really stupid of you. You shouldn't have thought you had to do it all on your own. We're stronger when we're together."

He looks away and rubs the back of his neck. "Together. Right."

She catches the implication and flushes. But she can't let him off that easy. Taking advantage of his distraction, she punches him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Katara! What was that for?!"

"That's for scaring me!"

He rubs his arm. "I said I was sorry! I didn't do it to scare you. I did it because- " He catches himself and stops short. He freezes and looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

She's trying to keep a stern face, but a smile is building underneath it, making the corners of her mouth twitch upward. She crosses her arms. "Well. I'm waiting."

He crosses his arms and looks away, blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes before putting on his most dignified expression. "Because it was the honorable thing to do, obviously."

Inside she's laughing, but she huffs and makes like she's going to get off the bed. "Oh, well, if that's all it was…"

His hand wraps around her arm. "Wait."

She settles back down. He won't look at her and his hands are fidgeting with the sheets at his waist. "I don't even know how to explain it, okay? I thought it would be better to fight her alone, but not just because I wanted to beat her by myself. I meant it when I said I didn't want anyone else to get hurt." He pauses, and glances at her before looking back down. "You. I didn't want you to get hurt." The color in his unscarred cheek starts to match his sheets. As he speaks, one of his hands drifts to his chest, and his fingers rub the outlines of the new scar tissue there. "When I saw what she was going to do, I didn't even have to think about it. It didn't matter what happened to me, because I…" He covers his face with his other hand and shakes his head. "Ugh, why am I so bad at this?"

Her heart swells in her chest and tears gather in her eyes. "Zuko." He looks at her between his fingers. She reaches out and pulls his hand away, bringing it up to her face. He lays his palm flat against her cheek and she leans into his touch. She squeezes her eyes shut and tears trail down her face and onto his long fingers, the same ones she had healed only days ago.

He surprises her by gripping her by the shoulder and pulling her down to him. She lies across him at an angle. His arms wrap around her and she holds him tighter with the knowledge in her heart that the fear of losing him wasn't just about guilt and failure and regret, it was about him. The armor and the crown and the high-ceilinged hallways are all a part of him, but so is this: the scent of him as she inhales, the feel of his shaggy hair against her neck, the warmth that radiates from his limbs as he holds her close. The quick temper, the pride and determination, the awkwardness underneath. The feel of his hands around her wrists, the sun as it shines behind him in the spirit oasis, the look in his eyes under the glow of green crystals as she walks away, the fury she felt as he knelt in contrition, the silent support as she stopped the rain. And now this. An entire history and future that pulses between them.

She is reluctant to let go, but when she does she props herself up on her elbows. She is looking at him and smiling as she brushes a piece of hair out of his eyes. She stops, and gently lays her hand over the left side of his face. He closes his eyes and goes still, leaning into her touch. She feels the heat in his face, the scar under her fingertips, his breath on her thumb as she traces his lips. It's a familiar sensation by now, but it's also entirely new. This isn't like Ba Sing Se and it isn't like the few nights past. She isn't trying to heal him or save him, this is something different. The boy under her hand is warm and alive and his every shuddering breath betrays a new type of anticipation.

She shifts her hand to cup the side of his jaw, takes a shaking breath of her own, and leans in. She swallows, suspended so close that when she whispers she knows that he can feel her words on his skin, taste them through his parted lips. "Thank you, Zuko."

She closes the distance and he wastes no time in threading his fingers in her hair. His body is hard and unyielding but his lips are warm and soft, and she almost laughs as she realizes that this is it, this is the moment in which everything they've been fighting against is over. The hurt and worry and fear that have been choking her release into the air in a single sigh against his mouth.

She pulls back a fraction and looks at him. He grins at her, pressing his forehead against hers. He whispers back at her before pulling her back in.

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you."

It's only a start, and there's still so much left to say. But together, they begin to write the end of her story.

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So...Thanks for reading! The second half of this chapter was inspired by beanaroony's art for the Zutara Week prompt "gravity." It's gorgeous and you should check it out! It was only meant to be a little oneshot, but then it kind of got out of control and ballooned into 15,000 words. Oops! The power of Zutara just compelled me to go on, I guess.

A note on my personal headcanon: Iroh is a revered retired general, and he is also a master strategist and a Grand Lotus. In my head, there is no way he sent Zuko and Katara to the Fire Nation with the idea that they would be able to somehow defeat Azula and complete a hostile takeover of the entire palace all on their own. Of course he would have operatives in place, both as a backup and as a way to secure victory in the capital. He might want Zuko and Katara to fight Azula alone, but that doesn't mean that they were alone. And they didn't even need to be told about it. Iroh is fucking crafty like that. Of course there would be a coup.

Also a note on the Gaang's arrival: Appa may be able to travel at the speed of plot, but Appa is with Zuko and Katara. Sokka, Toph, Aang, Suki and Iroh and the white lotus folks are all in Ba Sing Se or its outskirts. If you look at the map of the Avatar universe, this is a long way from the fire nation. It would conceivably take at least a day to travel by balloon from one side of the world to the other. And there's no way the Gaang can pilot one of those things alone for all that time. They might have been able to figure out how to steer it, but there's a huge crew on those things for a reason. It needs fuel and navigation and a host of other things. My headcanon insists that they went to the city, found Iroh and some other folks to help pilot the craft and secure Ozai, and then high-tailed it back to the Fire Nation together.

Oh, and the white lotus members on site for the coup were totally equipped with shirshu venom darts to subdue the princess. How the hell else do you get close to someone shooting blue fire out of their mouth? Those chains weren't going to hold forever.

I'm grateful to avatarspirit. net for their detailed transcripts! Made my life much easier. And of course, Avatar doesn't belong to me. If it did, it might have ended a little differently…

Please let me know what you think!