SUCKY FIC IS LONG
Title: You’re My Friend
Pairing: Katara/Zuko, Mai/Zuko, Katara/Aang
Word Count: + 3,800
Extras: Post-War. Angst. Romance.
Summary: Will you understand that when we leave this room that I will always still love you?
a/n: This was going to be a happy. I had complete intention to do so. But it turned into this monstrous thing. Kill me now, seriously. I think I’m still half dead from writing this and posting it. Does it make sense? I have no idea. It did in my head. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID.
Somebody want to give me a challenge or request? I’m running out of ideas.
.X.
“I’m surprised you guys haven’t killed me yet,”
Zuko could hear the laugh in his voice, but he didn’t quite feel it. The skies were cracking open, as he laid on his back, his hands resting on his chest. Vulnerable, exposed, under the sky, he could practically feel his past push down on his ribs heavily. All the mistakes, all the failures.
“Because that’s what friends do, stupid.”
Her laugh helps. Her blue eyes are sparkling and her smile is bright. Katara sat next to him, pushing the fire with a stick. Zuko glanced at her, slightly spreading a bemused smile. “Do you know what friends are? Have you ever had any, Zuko?” She teased him, lowering her voice into a whisper so she didn’t wake up the others.
“Yes!” He frowned at her giggling, focusing his eyes at the sky.
“Just not like you guys,” His voice is honest, pure, and young. “I’m new to this.”
Katara rolled to her side, locking her eyes with him, her face straight and relaxed. She nodded. “We all are, believe it or not.” Her eyes went up, and his followed. “..Once you start to listen to your heart, and you just…forget about your head and what they say about logic, you eventually end up doing the right thing.”
Zuko looked back down, studying the serious face of the waterbender. She looked back at him, smiling down her nervous laughter. “I think that’s how we all eventually ended up here. Here in this dysfunctional family. Doing the right thing. Even you.”
“You talk a lot.”
She glared, laughed and smiled, and finally turned around to fall asleep and completely forgot about what she said, even if he didn’t (and never would).
.x.
They were still bruised and still tired when they met Mai.
“Oh,” Katara forcefully tugged at her lips, “You never told us that she was your girlfriend.”
Perhaps it was because the war had just ended, a single day ago, and Zuko had just been crowned Fire Lord, that this information seemed more important than it should be. From the corner of her eye, she could see Zuko glance at Sokka, then Mai, then back to her.
She didn’t listen to what he had to say, she just inched closer to Aang, and smiled at Mai.
.x.
It’s been two years.
There’s hesitation on her face, hidden swiftly by her upside down and twisted around smile. The entire room is beautiful, gold and red and rebuilt, and beating with music that vibrates to her toes, so incredibly majestic and heart pumping. But Katara was holding her breath, hoping and praying to hide behind the blur of their dance, the Avatar’s hands on her hips and between her fingers.
But he’s smiling so big, grinning and sweating-just like when they were younger, when he was Kuzon and she was Sapphire and completely oblivious. She can’t let him down, not while he laughs and spins her around, and she has his heart all wrapped up in knots.
“May I cut in?”
It’s Zuko.
Quick and careful, he does. Zuko smiled at Aang, who graciously (but eventually) gave in. Blue eyes looking up, she let out a breath, saying everything with her eyes. “Stop it,” he says into her ear, “You know how much he loves you.” Her lip flinched. The steps to their dance became off beat, her shoulders stiffening and her eyes narrowing. “As your friend, Katara, I can see it. I know how you really feel about him, and you need to stop lying to Aang, and to yourself-”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped, “But I do think your girlfriend is looking for you.”
When she lets go, she gives him a reassuring smile, but keeps on walking, just walking over a neat line to the drinks (never over the boundary line, never out of her place, because she knows it.)
She hates lying.
.x.
It was strange, in a way.
Zuko wasn’t a man who told his past, who trusted others with secrets, or let his emotions roll to his sleeve. But, with this one person, he could. Not his uncle, not his girlfriend. But a waterbender, of all people. He’d find himself telling her things he wouldn’t to anyone else.
She was his best friend.
He didn’t realize it until his uncle died, and he cried in her arms, no words to be spoken, no explanation needed, while they hid in the kitchen’s closet so no one would see the Fire Lord, a grown man, weep.
Mai held him, she did, and he loved her so much for that, but he just couldn’t cry in front of her.
They were so different.
.x.
“You loved me once, didn’t you?”
Papers shuffled against the desk, a fidgeting Fire Lord sitting behind it. Eyes narrowed and focused, he barely remembered there was a blue eyed girl in the room. Licking his lips, Zuko thumbed through a scroll, finally glancing up to see blue fabric in his vision. He had only hardly heard her mumble. “Did you say something?”
“I said,” she didn’t skip a beat, “You love Mai, don’t you?”
This time he paused, his attention focusing on her and away from the papers. “Yes, of course.” Slightly confused, he blew a breath from his nose, “What kind of question is that? She’s my fiancé, Katara.”
“Just a question,” Katara shrugged, counting this as the third time she’s avoided the real question, her hands digging into the pockets of her dress. She walked out, straightening her shoulders and tightening her lips as if nothing had happened.
Between her fingers, the lace of a necklace sits, the memory swinging in her head and the real question still on her lips.
.x.
He gave her his heart.
And she took it.
Because she needed it, not because she wanted it. “I loved you forever,” Aang tells hers, “Since I first met you, and you don’t know how much. I’d give up the world for you.” So Katara reaches for it, smiling and finally taking back love she deserved, and knows she must take it. She can’t hurt him, can’t break his heart, and all those years she spent protecting him will not be wasted. She loves him too much.
(She’s also lonely and tired of waiting.)
.x.
“Oh, get up, Zuko.”
He’s not quite sure what she meant by this, as he sat in the grass, his eyes staring into the reflecting pond water. Through the water mirror, and the slow ripples, he could see Katara standing behind him, arms on her hips and a fixed jaw.
“I’m not in the mood.”
At first he swore he thought he heard her mumble something like, “Fine, I’ll make you,” but all his thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand hit his shoulder. And suddenly, she’s shoving him down, hard, into the ground, her eyes tight and fists rolled. Stretched out on the ground, his good eye widened when he saw her raise a hand, water and ice reflecting in the sun, his breath stopping, but something else was swarming through his veins and from his stomach.
“Take it out on me,” she hissed, “Do it!”
The past began to blend with the present, fists of fire and ribbons of sharp ice crashing. This isn’t just practice. It’s as if he’s blindfolded, punching and crushing his knuckles, his attacks blind and raging. One kick like the Oasis (this is for Uncle), a battle cry from the pit of his stomach (this is for the mistakes), a punch from the caves of Ba Sing Se (for Azula, for Father), and one last blow for everything-
“Zuko! Stop!”
Splotches of past memories began to fade, his eyes opening back to reality and settling on the real face he saw below him, cowering. He didn’t realize it before, but his arm had lost power, the flow of blood controlled by the dark fingers trembling beneath him. “Katara…” He stood over her, his eyes widening again as he realized what he could have done.
Bleeding and sore, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” She let go of his arm, understanding eyes looking up at him, and took it once again when he offered a hand to help her up.
“I wasn’t holding back,” Katara slipped her hands around him, “Just so you know. You were pushing me hard, but I pushed back, too. I’m strong enough.”
“I know, I know.”
He needed to release his emotions, and in a way, she needed him to do that, too. There’s no need to explain why she did it, no need to really apologize, as she patted him softly, the change from fighting till she bled, to soft hands and care, drastic and completely Katara.
“Feel better?”
And it clicks, like a candle and a flame-she really cares.
She honestly, truly, means it, and it matters more than it should to him.
.x.
“Let’s go.”
She stepped closer, dragging each step along the beat of her heart. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s do something. Eat lunch or have some fun. We both just…just need to escape. You’ve been so stressed lately, you really should relax. Come on, let’s go.”
“I am doing something, Katara! I have paperwork and a world that’s suffocating me. I can’t just walk out! I can’t even breathe here! I don’t have time for this-who do you think I am?”
Zuko stood to his feet, his chest heaving with something he knew was frustration, and his eyes wide at her. The space, and the silence, between them was choking. It was against his neck and around his heart.
Katara let go of her breath-so the words and silence surged upon him, the final knot around the rope.
“You’re Zuko,” she stared at him, through him almost, “The boy who doesn’t give up.”
He still couldn’t breathe as she left the room.
.x.
“Who am I, Mai?”
Zuko turned to her, his eyes searching for something deep inside her, his voice quiet.
“You’re Zuko-the Fire Lord. My boyfriend.”
Nodding, he turned away, thinking.
.x.
He came back-like always.
“Is that offer still available?”
Against the door frame, he gave a small smile at the waterbender in his library. Quietly, carefully, he walked over to the table, sitting across from her. “To eat lunch, I assume.” Katara smiled back, closing the book she had been glancing at.
“You do realize lunch passed over three hours, right?”
For a moment, he sat there, staring at the table. Her hands and the book. Thinking, thinking, he managed to lift his chin and open his mouth-“I know,”-but couldn’t bring himself to speak what he needed to say.
“Zuko-”
The sound of his name was enough to rip open his heart and let it leak.
“You once told me that you should listen to your heart. That you should ignore logic and people and common sense. And that it would lead to doing the right thing. Do you remember that, Katara?”
When she didn’t say anything, he found himself begging, his knuckles digging into his face and his fingers reaching for her hands that had moved from the table to her lap, and his voice kept going and shattering. “Please tell me you remember, Katara, please, please.”
She looked up, lost and confused.
“Why?”
Maybe he was just as lost as she was, or maybe scared-just like she was.
“Because I love you,” he stood up, walking over as the words rushed out, “And my heart keeps telling me its right. I know it. It’s the same feeling I had when you almost healed my scar, when I knew I had to help you with your mother, when you forgave me, and it’s the same feeling when I took that lightning for you. No regrets, just some pure feeling that I can’t describe.”
“Shut up, Zuko. Shut up.”
He had been too busy smiling and gripping his heart to notice her wet eyes.
“Katara. You told me. You told me that when you listened, it was right.”
He ached.
“I can’t love you.”
“But you do!” Another step closer, he looked down at her, eyes and soul on fire. “And you told me. This should be right thing, shouldn’t it? So why can’t you?”
“Because the heart isn’t always right, Zuko! Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like. Sometimes, you have to think of other people’s hearts before yours.”
“Tell me one time. Tell me one time you put yourself first.”
Towering over her, he steadied his voice and pushed down the need to break down. Locking eyes, she struggled to think of a time, but when she felt his voice and breath hush against her face, she remembered.
“When I let myself fall in love with you.”
And that was already too much.
“Please,” she whispered, closing her eyes and felt her heart crush inside her chest, “Please stop hurting me. Don’t make this worse. Don’t make this harder. You know this, too.”
On his toes, he leaned in, wanting and needing, but she turned away. A hand went to his chest, pushing but also holding. “If you love me, will you move on-for me? Will you understand that when we leave this room that I will always still love you? But we have to say goodbye. We have to keep going.”
He nodded and pushed away her hand.
“I understand.”
His heart still hurt, though.
.x.
“I have business to attend to in the South Pole,” his smile is serious, sincere, “Would you care to join me? You were going back there anyway, sometime soon at least, right?”
Katara glanced up, giving a nod as a shrug rolled off her shoulders. “Okay.”
With careful steps, she placed a hand on his arm, her voice lowering and softening. “Zuko,” And he can feel it, all the way in his stomach, between his fingers, in his chest, and in the back of his head, how tired and honest her eyes and words are, “Thank you. For understanding. You don’t know how much that helps.”
She acted like everything was perfectly normal.
He gave a nod, turning away without saying anything.
“Anything for you, Katara.”
.x.
It was just a few days later, they left off on the ship.
Against the rock of the swallowing sea, deep blue sighs from the ocean rushing, he whispered into her ear. “I’ll be right back,” Zuko stood from the seat in his finest cabin, looking down at the waterbender sitting comfortably with her tea. “I’m going to talk to the Captain for second. Gotta ask him about time and such, make sure everything’s alright up there.”
Katara smiled. “Hurry up. Oh! I have to tell you this hilarious story when you come back,” She muffled a laugh, “About this time when Sokka wore a dress. You’ll love it.” Her knees rolled up to her chest, bare feet digging into the fabric of the seat.
“Well, now I can’t miss that,” He smirked. “I’ll be back.”
Then he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room.
His footsteps echoed down the long metal hallway. Zuko licked his lips, making sure his footsteps didn’t rush, didn’t slow down.
.x.
The ship bolted into life with a sudden jerk, the metal creaking and groaning as the water punched against the ribs of the giant machine. Her head resting against the chair, she sat up, setting her tea down abruptly. “Where’s…”
It hit her.
Zuko wasn’t checking with the Captain.
Zuko wasn’t coming back.
Before she could fully comprehend it all, her feet were pumping against the ground, her breath short and cut, as her frantic body began to run out the door and to the deck of the moving ship. “Zuko!” His named ripped through her throat, hesitant at first, against the hope that maybe she was wrong. Panic grew in her chest.
When she turned her head on the cleared deck of the ship, she could see him, already stepped off and walking farther into the harbor. She could see the profile of his stiff face, his eyes not looking at her, refusing, as if she didn’t exist and as if he couldn’t hear her desperate, raging cries. (“Zuko? What are you doing?! Don’t you leave me! Zuko!”)
“You liar!”
At the edge of the ship, she gripped and screamed, guards holding her back-without a doubt assigned by him-confusion and betrayal all wrapped up in a tight knot around her heart. Her legs kicked, her brain raced. She could part the sea if she wanted to, jump in the water and get to him, freeze the boat in place, or hell, if she wanted to, freeze him-but that didn’t matter. Because even if she did, it wouldn’t make a difference. No matter what she did, he wouldn’t be back. Her voice pitched, eyes watering.
What kind of goodbye was this?
“Look at me, coward! Look at me!”
But he just kept walking. Just walking, just like that. His eyes focused on one thing. His steps were rough and rigid. Fists clenching, he adjusted his crown and his robes, never looking back, never daring to see the hysterical girl screaming his name, and just stepped into the same carriage that he had arrived in.
“To the palace,” he ordered hoarsely, his jaw set firm, but hands shaking.
.x.
“I love you,” Zuko hushed his voice, nuzzling closer to the woman in the dark, “So much.”
This, as he gently pulls her closer and captures his lips, is moving on. So he kisses her with rushed hands and a feverish head, his breath raggedy while he desperately tries to get rid of the blue eyed girl and all the wrapped up lies in the back of his head.
“I love you, too.” Mai whispers, lips smiling wide.
His heart twists, but at least he knows, he’s saving hers.
(He’s still living, he’s still breathing-he’s alive and maybe this is what moving on is.)
.x.
“What are you doing here?”
Zuko stood from his desk, papers spilling and falling over, his chair screeching against the marble floor. Walking away, he stepped toward the figure in his doorway. His throat went dry, his body choking up the memory from a year ago.
“Katara-”
The loud smack from her hand across his cheek stung, her calloused fingers colliding with his cheekbone and the low cry from her throat burning. “You left me!” He stumbled from the surprise, and was met again with her hands when she reached for the front of his robes, rage sweating from her brow and bubbling in her chest. “How could you lie to me? Why? You couldn’t even look at me!”
“Why?” A breath of air huffed past his lips, and she’s not sure if that was a laugh, or a cry of pain, “Because, Katara. I did exactly what you told me to. To move on-”
“By abandoning me? By lying to me? You could have at least said goodbye!”
His fists rolled as he turned his face away, so the profile of his scar faced her. Zuko felt his voice lower and crack, “I did what I had to do. But-I guess that doesn’t matter. You’re back now.”
She realized it then.
Honest eyes glanced at her, and she could feel it, the reason to why he left her. Goodbyes are too hard. “Why are you back?” It took her a moment to hear him, but when she did, she felt herself take a step back. “I was mad at you for a long time. But…I..needed…I needed to know why you did what you did.”
“No-I mean why are you back, why do you still want me around, after you said we had to stop…feeling this way?”
And then they were back, back to the days when she was just plain Katara, he was just old Zuko, and things weren’t so hard. Her hands reached out to his face, holding his face as her blue eyes sparkled, “Because before I fell in love with you Zuko, before we had to worry about this, you were my friend.”
His hand slipped over one of hers, swallowing the words and shutting his eyes to remember, to fall back into the old days and old memories he thought he had buried deep down. “I don’t want to forget that, I don’t want to waste that. I want it back.”
Nuzzling closer into her palms, her dark fingers, into her warmth, he felt his words run dry. “We never lost it, peasant, and you should know that I’d never let that happen,” he nodded with a small smile, running a hand through her hair, “Because that’s what friends do, right?”
Katara looked into his eyes, hands trembling and smile shaking, and finally figured out why she fell in love with him in the first place (and how much this truly is going to hurt).
“Maybe we should start over,” Tears streamed down her face, her nose sniffling and throat aching.
Stepping back, Zuko cleared his throat, and bowed awkwardly.
“I’m Zuko.”
The boy who doesn’t give up.
The words reminded her of the black snow falling over a village-crisp and lovely flakes that burn the tongue.
“I-I’m Katara.”
By this time, she’s muffling her cries with her hand, hot breaths silently screaming. Swallowing it all down, the reality, the sobs, the words, she continued backing up, and so did he, giving a weak wave with shaky hands.
“Goodbye.”
They turned around, walking their own way. Forgiving, forgetting. Moving on. You couldn’t get everything you wanted, right? There were responsibilities, there were promises, and they were all so hard. But she’d live, and he would too, and life would continue to move and weave, and they’d still be friends, still able to love each other.
Katara felt her hand touch the smooth pendant around her neck, the back of her hand wiping away at the wet drops. “Wait,” She breathed, “Zuko!” Syllables strained, but she didn’t even have to blink or finish before the Fire Lord’s body twisted around and began to race toward her, his blood pumping and his feet rushed.
“Zuko!” She called out again, spinning and clumsily running toward him.
Lips mashed together, colliding with force and longing, and with something they’ve both been dreaming of. It’s their first and last kiss, hands running through hair and hearts thumping with feverish pants. It’s for love, it’s for friendship-it’s for the end to their start so they can finally move on.
The word is bitter and sweet-“Goodbye,” -but it’s also for real now. And it hurts, and maybe they’re growing up, but they’re also breathing, so that must mean it’s going to be okay. They can’t control their hearts, but they can control this. So they mutter their goodbyes, holding their heads high and strong, broken but healing, and walk out.
Because goodbyes don’t have to mean forever.
It’s enough.