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Ba Sing Se had fallen.
The sound of the waves slamming into the sides of the ship usually calmed Katara down and helped her fall asleep; but that night it was doing the opposite.
The Avatar had fallen.
She couldn’t close her eyes. If she did, the only thing she saw was that door.
The only door of the ship that was awfully, accusingly still. The door that she had to open every day to see him. The door that acted like a warning, an invisible sign that read “Unconscious Aang inside.”
Aang had fallen in her arms.
He had been dead in her embrace.
The moment too painful to recall for too long, but too recent to forget.
She hated the deafening silence of Aang’s room — a silence that only heightened the absence of his voice.
Surrendering to insomnia, Katara headed to contemplate the sea. The reflection of the moon in the water soothed her, and she hoped it could turn down the volume of her thoughts.
Katara was overwhelmed by guilt. It was pressing her chest, impeding her to breathe. It had tied her arms and taped her mouth.
Guilt had been by her side since she had memory, since it whispered in her little ear: Your mom is gone because of you. She was protecting you and they took- burned her life for it.
You should be happy. Your father’s here. Katara, your father is here. Smile. Be grateful. He left to fight in the war. Why are you so selfish? Look him in the eye. Who cares you feel abandoned?
Guilt had become Katara’s greatest enemy, and it wasn’t the kind she could fight with waterbending.
You almost used the spirit oasis water on Zuko, over all people. What were you thinking? If you would have done it, Aang would be dead now. What were you thinking? Silly girl.
The air didn’t fill her lungs anymore and her hands were soaked in cold sweat.
She closed her eyes. “If you want to be a bender, you have to let go of fear.” Katara remembered one of Aang’s first teachings to her. She was his Waterbending Sifu, but it would be a lie to say Aang hadn’t taught her anything. It was mutual, they made each other better benders. Waterbending with Aang was one of Katara’s favourite activities.
But he wasn’t here now. His body was, but he wasn’t.
Her hands gripped on the borders of the ship. She needed tactile stimulation to ground herself, and the cold of the metal was working.
When her heart rate roughly stabilized, she regained control over her breathing, but kept her eyes shut.
The wind caressing her cheeks felt colder in two streams that traced a line from her eyes to her jaw.
She needed someone to talk to. That someone, however, was unresponsive.
And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to make him respond.
Try she did. Over and over.
“Hey Aang, remember when you told me you’d rather kiss me than die. Well, I didn’t take it as a compliment, as you can imagine. But I forgive you. You can wake up now.”
No response.
“Rude.” Katara continued her healing session.
“Today Sokka tried to convince Toph the sky was green. I think he misses you. He doesn’t say it because he knows it would hurt me.”
Silence. Katara didn’t expect an answer anyway.
“It hurts me every time they mention you. I feel so guilty, Aang. But it also hurts me when they don’t mention you, when they act like you aren’t here, lying in this bed, amidst this horrible and boring silence.”
His breath remained slow-paced.
“Session’s over, pupil Aang. I miss our training days.”
“-And then Dad told us about the time when he and Bato threw a huge party down there in the South. Dad met my mom there. Don’t you think that’s SO romantic?”
His wound looked better today. Katara smiled.
“Sometimes I miss my life there, in the South Pole. I miss Gran Gran. I miss watching Sokka trying to train the little boys to be great warriors. I can’t believe he really IS a warrior now. We all are.”
“Aang, can you hear me?” Katara leaned closer to his face, not so close to invade his personal space. Not that he would notice, though.
“I know you miss your life in the temples too. You don’t talk about it, but I can see it in your eyes. I can see your pain when someone mentions the Air Nomads.”
She felt a knot in her throat.
“I know you miss your friends. Your home. Monk Gyatso.”
How could he stop a war carrying so much grief?
“Aang, listen to me. I’m sure the Air Nomads are incredibly proud of you. I know Gyatso is. And, even though I’m not an Air Nomad, I am too.”
“Sokka tried to convince me he was the greatest detective of all time, again. I wish you could have been there to mock him. I always laugh so much when you do.” Katara let out a chuckle.
“It makes me so sad every time I remember my mom will never get to know you. She would adore you.”
“I made YOU come back to life so you BETTER wake up because if you don’t, I’ll get EXTREMELY mad.” Today was one of those days.
“I come down here every. Single. Day. To heal you and you don’t even move? Not even a hand movement? C’mon Aang you have HAIR now!! It’s time to wake up!! Do you want me to go insane? Is that what you want?”
“If you wake up, I promise the next time I face Azula I will bring her down.”
She tried to channel her anger through her healing.
“I will let go of fear, I will be brave, just wake up, please. We need you. I need you.”
“I’m taking good care of you Aang, don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” But Aang didn’t seem worried.
“Hair suits you, but you don’t look like yourself. I mean, especially because you’re asleep. You’ve been asleep for two weeks now. The Aang I know would have already woken up. The Aang I know wouldn’t make me suffer the way you’re doing now.” Oh no, she was crying. She was crying and Aang was still unresponsive.
“Why are you not waking up, Aang? Am I doing something wrong? Tell me!” The tears falling onto Aang’s torso didn’t seem to be enough reason to wake up, to come back to her.
“Is it my fault?”
No response.
She had tried so many times.
Aang was still lying there.
“I’m scared.” She whispered to the dark, which also didn’t answer back. But finally saying it out loud loosened something tight inside her chest.
Having confessed to the night, she returned to her temporary bedroom and tried to get some rest.